


46th and Pine: A West Philadelphia Love Story

by therumjournals



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: AU, M/M, Philadelphia, Pinto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-07
Updated: 2010-07-06
Packaged: 2017-10-17 13:11:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 35,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/177183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therumjournals/pseuds/therumjournals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Philadelphia AU.  Chris is a senior at the University of Pennsylvania when he meets Zach, a hipster artist with a hippie lifestyle in West Philadelphia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chris pulled the crumpled printout from his pocket and double checked the address against the house number on the door of the slightly dilapidated rowhouse in front of him. 4609 Chester Street - yep, he was in the right place. He gave the house a quick once-over – a few stone steps up to a spacious covered porch, occupied by a worn couch and a few bikes locked to the railing. The second story featured two gabled windows, similar to most of the houses on the shaded street. Chris took the stairs up to the front porch, rang the doorbell, and smiled at the sound of barking from the back of the house. As he waited, he peered around the side railing to see if he could check out the small yard that had been mentioned in the Craigslist ad. He didn’t hear the front door open.

“Can I help you?” said a voice behind him.

Chris jumped, startled, and turned around with a bashful grin. “Hey. Sorry about that. I’m Chris, I’m here to check out the room you’re renting?”

“Oh right, shit, yeah, Harvest mentioned someone would be coming by.”

Chris raised an eyebrow. Harvest?

“Anyway, Chris, nice to meet you, I’m Zach.” He wiped his hands on a stained bandana and extended one for Chris to shake. Chris couldn’t help but be slightly amused at Zach’s appearance. He knew that this part of West Philly was populated by artists, hipsters, bike messengers, and the like, and Zach fit right into the stereotype. His cargo pants were splattered with paint, as was his camo tank-top, and his dark hair peeked out from under an incongruous gray and purple fleece beanie. He was tan and toned and surrounded by the scent of patchouli. Chris snapped himself out of his observations as Zach dropped his hand and gestured for him to come inside.

The house was similar to those closer to Penn’s campus – hardwood floors stretched back through a living room, dining room, and kitchen, and he caught a glimpse of green yard out the screen door in the back. The living room boasted a fireplace that probably didn’t work and a motley assortment of second-hand furniture, including what looked like a working record player. The walls of the living room were adorned with a variety of found art – vintage postcards, album covers, bike parts - along with a few larger abstract paintings. The art continued up the side of the wooden staircase that led up to the second story. Chris took it all in quickly, as he followed Zach up the stairs and down a hall to a large empty room in the front of the house.

“This would be your room,” he was saying, “it’s actually the biggest room in the house so the rent’s a little higher, but you’ve got great light in here and a nice view. Actually, you can get out on the roof of the porch if you open your window, which is pretty awesome.” Chris nodded and looked around, not that there was much to see.

“Um, okay, so, here’s the bathroom,” Zach said, walking back down the hall. “There are two more bedrooms on this floor and mine’s upstairs on the third. Uh, there’s not really that much to see, so let me show you the downstairs.” He seemed a little distracted, yet another artist stereotype that the guy seemed to embody. Chris found it vaguely amusing, and he trailed after Zach with a smile that wasn’t necessarily related to the house.

Back downstairs, Zach showed him the dining room and the kitchen, and they poked their heads out the back door to check out the small yard, complete with a garden along the back wall, and a gray dog munching happily on a bone in the middle of the grassy patch. “Oh, and that’s Noah. Which brings me to, let’s see here,” Zach said, stepping back into the kitchen and pulling a handwritten note from the fridge. He gestured for Chris to take a seat. “Okay, um, let’s see, Harvest gave me this list of stuff I’m supposed to talk to ‘potential roommates’ about, to see if you’re a good fit.” He looked up at Chris apologetically, but Chris just smiled and opened his arms.

“Bring it on.”

“Okay, well, I guess first tell me about yourself?”

“Okay, um, I’m a senior at Penn,” he started, examining Zach for his reaction. He was rewarded by a brief expression of surprise across Zach’s face. “Yeah, I know, I bet you don’t get many Penn students looking for a place out here.”

“I’ll be less surprised if you tell me your major is Philosophy or Africana Studies,” Zach said with a wry smile.

“Close. English.”

“Of course.”

“Yeah, I’m just kind of sick of the whole Penn scene and thought I’d try to find a quieter place off campus.”

“Awesome, well, this place is pretty sweet. I’ve been here for almost two years now. Gets a little cold in the winter, I’m not gonna lie, but the location is awesome. Clark Park is right down the block, you’ve got the co-op grocery, and of course you’ve got Fuego down the street.”

“Fuego?”

“It’s a little co-op bar above the Ethiopian restaurant. We don’t get many Penn kids there. But there’s cheap beer, a sweet atmosphere, bluegrass on Thursday nights. That’s basically where we spend most of our time outside the house,” he added with a laugh. “Where are you from, originally?”

“California. But the East Coast is growing on me, I have to say. You?”

“Pittsburgh. Started at Carnegie Mellon but ended up transferring to Sarah Lawrence and found my way here after school.”

“What do you do now?”

“I do some theater tech around the city to pay the rent, but I’ve been getting more into art – painting,” he said, gesturing to one of the abstracts on the dining room wall. “Hoping to get my stuff shown in a gallery this year if I can.”

“Wow, that’s…impressive.”

“Thanks. Okay, so um, let’s see here.” Zach tore his eyes away and looked down at the list. “You like animals?” he asked, looking back across the table.

“Yeah, definitely. That your dog in the back?”

“Yeah. He’s a sweetie. Also, Harvest has two rats, I hope that doesn’t freak you out.”

“Nah, man, that’s cool.” Actually, it did freak him out a little, but he was suddenly willing to agree to almost anything if it meant he might get the room.

“Great. Next question – are you a vegetarian or a vegan?”

“Um…neither? I eat of the forbidden fruit?” Chris tried lamely.

Zach laughed. “Okay, well that’s cool, just ya know, you’d have to kind of keep your meat separate and not slaughter any animals in the backyard. And if we’re all cooking together, it will probably be vegan.”

Chris shrugged. “Fine by me. You guys, uh, cook together a lot?”

“A fair amount. We have a house dinner every Wednesday, that’s where we talk about any house issues and assign chores for the week and stuff.”

“Chores?”

“Yeah, you know, like who’s going to take the recycling to the drop-off, who’s going to work on the composting, dishes, stuff like that.”

“Right, okay.”

“And just in case you think that makes us sound anal, we’re really not. We’re totally cool about most stuff, having people over, smoking, drinking, all of that is fine. We have house parties like once a month here. Oh, and we don’t have a TV, but we’ve got a sweet-ass projector to watch movies. So, what do you think?”

“Yeah, sure. I mean, it’s way different than what I’m used to, but I think it seems cool.”

“Alright, man, well I just have to talk to Harvest and Summer – they’re the other roommates, by the way. Harvest is a bike messenger and Summer…I have no idea what Summer does, to be honest with you. But she makes a mean barbecue tempeh.”

Chris had no idea what the fuck tempeh was, but he decided to go with his more immediate question. “Is Harvest a girl or a guy?”

“Hard to say,” said Zach, and immediately clapped a hand over his mouth. “Oh my god,” he said, taking his hand away and shaking his head sheepishly. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, that’s really terrible.” He took a deep breath and looked earnestly at Chris. “A person can express their gender identity however they choose, and it’s totally not my position to judge.”

Chris nodded in agreement, even though he was pretty sure he had no idea what Zach was talking about, except to know that he hadn’t answered the question. Oh well. Not that it really mattered either way.

“But speaking of which, I forgot to mention, I’m supposed to tell you that we’re looking for a queer-friendly roommate. In case it isn’t obvious by now, we’re kind of a queer household,” he added, drumming his hands on the table.

“That’s cool,” said Chris, wanting to be as reassuring as possible. “I have a lot of gay friends.”

Zach gave him a strange look, but broke into a grin as he stood up from the table. “Okay, well, I think one more person’s coming by tonight to check out the place, so I’ll be in touch tomorrow probably to let you know. Do you have any more questions?”

Chris was flustered, and just wanted to get out of there before he could say anything else ridiculous. _I have gay friends?_ Who the fuck says that? He shook his head and told Zach he’d look forward to hearing from him, not even trying to get in a final pitch about how he thought he’d be a great fit and blah blah blah. Zach followed him to the door and watched him for a few seconds as he headed down the street toward campus.

**

Chris was in the bookstore when the phone rang, an unfamiliar number flashing across the screen. The apartment, he remembered, and he answered on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Hey, uh, Chris?”

“Yeah, this is Chris.”

“Oh, hey man, this is Zach, you know, you came by yesterday?”

“Yeah, of course.” Chris felt a flutter of anticipation in his stomach.

“Yeah, so I’m really sorry, man, but I think we’re gonna give the room to someone else.” He sounded apologetic.

“Oh. Um. Okay, yeah, that’s cool. I mean, that kinda sucks, but it’s cool.”

“Yeah, I’m really sorry, I was totally pushing for you, but Summer’s kind of intense and she was just really insistent so, ya know…we had to go with the hot lesbian.”

Chris couldn’t help but laugh. “Right, of course. Plus her name is probably Sunshine or Moon or something,” he added after a pause.

Zach chuckled, and Chris felt a thrill of accomplishment at having made him laugh. “Okay, well, maybe I’ll see you around sometime, yeah?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Chris hung up, frowning. He was a little surprised at how disappointed he felt over a lost opportunity to habitate with patchouli-smelling queer vegetarians. Oh well, c’est la vie, he thought with a shrug. Time to implement the backup plan. He hit 3 on his speed dial.

“Hey, Karl. You still looking for a roommate?”

***

Chris and Karl had roomed together sophomore year, and it had almost ruined their friendship forever. Karl was pre-med and on the crew team, while Chris made it a point to never schedule a class before noon, which meant his prime partying time coincided almost perfectly with Karl’s sleeping hours. The result had been a series of epic fights, epic silent treatments, and an epically unwise relationship between Karl and Zoe from their hall freshman year, which Zoe cut off when she realized that Karl was mostly just dating her so he could get some sleep in her quiet single on the quad.

They’d salvaged the friendship, however, and Chris had calmed down enough that Karl’s sleep and study schedule actually sounded appealing. Karl had jokingly asked what he’d done with his friend Chris when he announced that he’d scheduled a class at 9 AM and that he only planned to go to happy hour on Thursdays and Fridays. By the third week of the semester, they’d settled into a comfortable routine, and Chris was almost glad he hadn’t gotten the room at 4609. _Almost_.

So he jumped at the opportunity that presented itself when Karl announced one night that he didn’t have practice the next day. “So we have to go out tonight. I want to drink until I forget the grade I got on my Advanced Bio test last week.”

“Why, what was it, an A minus?” Chris intoned, closing his laptop.

“Funny. And I don’t know why you think you can talk, Pine, you flip a shit if the prof doesn’t jerk off to your latest essay.”

“Shut up,” Chris snapped, even though it was true that just last week he’d re-written a paper to bring his grade up from a 97 to a 99.

“Yeah, you both need to drink more,” said Zoe, who’d commandeered their couch and their cable for an _America’s Next Top Model_ marathon. “Let’s go to Mad Mex!”

“Hell no,” said Karl. “You got so shitfaced there last week, and I’m not carrying your ass back to your apartment again. And I don’t care if the bartender’s cute,” he said, cutting off her next protest.

“Careful there, Karl,” Chris whispered as he walked over to stand next to Karl, “your possessive streak is showing.”

“Oh shut up.”

“Let’s go somewhere different,” he suggested casually. “I’m fucking sick of the same old bars.”

“How can you be sick of the bars already, we’ve been on campus three weeks.”

“Because I’ve been getting into them for three fucking years, dude. I feel….claustrophobic.”

“Oooh, let’s go to Old City!” suggested Zoe.

“NO,” the boys said simultaneously, shutting her down.

“Look,” Chris said casually, “I heard about this place over on 46th Street, Fuego I think it’s called? Would you guys want to check it out? Drinks are supposedly real cheap.”

“Woohoo!” shouted Zoe, pumping her fist in the air.

“Karl? Come on, didn’t you say you wanted to get trashed?”

“Fine. Just, let’s go before I decide to stay home and study.” Chris grabbed him by the arm and dragged him toward the door, as Zoe grabbed her purse and followed.

Chris found the restaurant Zach had mentioned on the corner of 46th and Locust. Music and voices wafted from an upstairs window, so he led Karl and Zoe through the door and up a staircase toward the source of the noise. They found themselves in a small, crowded room, with a plywood bar running along one side. The room was dark and smelled of beer and clove cigarettes, and Johnny Cash played over the speakers. Chris took a deep breath and was about to make his way toward the bar when he heard someone call his name. He glanced across the room with a frown to see Zach waving at him and gesturing them over to the end of the bar.

“Chris, oh my god, I thought I would never see you again!” Zach said excitedly, after they’d managed to maneuver their way across the room.

Chris laughed at Zach’s overdramatic reaction. “I was wondering if I’d see you here,” he said, “seeing as you’re the one who told me about this place. I brought some friends, hope that’s cool.” Karl and Zoe stood behind him, glancing around nervously.

“Sure, sure, the more the merrier!”

“This is my roommate Karl, and this is our friend Zoe. You guys, this is Zach. Remember, I told you about the place I was trying to get a room? Zach’s the one who rejected me.”

Zach smacked him playfully on the shoulder. “Hey, that’s not fair!”

Karl raised an eyebrow at him. “So you’re the one I should blame for the fact that I currently live with this lunatic?” he asked with a smirk.

Zach laughed easily and nodded. “Yeah, sorry about that. Hey, what are you guys drinking?”

“Do they have pitchers?” Karl asked.

“Um, no. Wait, you know what, hold on a sec.” He slapped his hands on the bar and called out to the bartender. “Yo, Brendan, can we get four citywide specials over here?”

“Four whats?” asked Chris.

“You’re gonna love this,” Zach said. “A shot of Jim Beam and a can of PBR for three bucks.”

“ _Three bucks?_ ,” Chris asked in amazement.

“I know, right. That’s why this place is the shit. Come in with ten bucks in your pocket, go home completely ripped.”

Chris mused that for people who were so concerned about what went into their bodies, the roomful of hippie vegetarians seemed pretty intent on getting drunk.

The bartender sloshed four shots onto the bar and popped open four cans of PBR, which Zach distributed. He raised his shotglass, and they did the same. “To new friends,” said Zach. They tossed back their shots and chased them with gulps of beer, and Chris vowed never to tell anyone else at Penn about this place.

“This is Rachel,” Zach was saying, introducing him to a pretty redhead at the bar. Chris felt Zach’s warm breath against his ear. “That would be the hot lesbian roommate.”

“Ahh,” said Chris, nodding his understanding.

“Oh, and that’s Harvest over there. Yo, Harvest!” he yelled across the sea of people that packed the tiny space.

Across the room, Chris saw someone give Zach a wave and start pushing through the crowd to get to them.

Chris gave into his curiosity and peered into the darkness, making out a short figure with curly hair peeking out from under a backwards trucker cap.

“Harvest, Chris, Chris, Harvest,” Zach said when Harvest reached them.

“Nice to meet you,” said Chris, examining the young face, lip ring, and cynical eye giving Chris a similar appraisal.

“Yeah, sure,” said Harvest, turning back to Zach with a shrug. Chris furrowed his brow at the snub and took a swig of his beer.

“Is your other roommate here?” he asked, trying to get Zach’s attention back to him.

“Summer, no, Summer is…what’s Summer doing tonight?” he asked Harvest.

“Protesting Stephen Starr restaurants for serving foie gras,” Harvest explained.

“Oh right, it’s Wednesday,” Zach said with a laugh. “You ready for another one,” he asked, gesturing to the empty beer can Chris had set down on the bar.

“Hell yeah,” he said, “but this round’s on me.”

The next round was on Karl, who then decreed that Zoe was cut off, and they retreated to a corner table. Zach fell into conversation with the bartender, and Chris let Rachel-the-hot-lesbian buy him two more shots and carry on a one-sided conversation about the pros and cons of becoming a dominatrix to pay for grad school. Chris hadn’t really realized how drunk he was until he stood up from his stool and the room spun. He probably would have fallen over if Zach hadn’t turned around just in time to catch him by the shoulders, a concerned look on his face. “Hey, you okay buddy?”

“’m fine, just need to go home,” Chris slurred.

“Okay, well, why don’t we go outside for a minute so you can sober up a bit.” He held Chris by the shoulder and led him downstairs. Chris vaguely remembered sitting on the steps and talking to Zach, laughing a lot and getting really excited about something, but it all blurred in his mind and he had no idea if fifteen minutes or two hours had passed before Karl and Zoe suggested that they head back to campus.

“Bye,” Chris said with drunken finality, staggering to his feet and lurching down the block in the wrong direction.

“Whoa, whoa,” Zach said, laughing. “Wrong way, dude.

“”f I lived with you, I’d be home by now,” Chris grumbled, as Zach took hold of his shoulders and turned him around gently.

Zach laughed loudly. “True, true. Well, I’d invite you back to my place right now, but then I’d probably just end up taking advantage of you and your friends here would kill me and that would just be tragic.” Karl raised an eyebrow at him and yeah, Zach was a little drunk himself. He gripped Chris by the shoulders and gave him a little push in the right direction. “That way.”

**

Chris’s phone rang between classes the next day and he looked at it with a frown. The name on the screen said “Z. Hippie” and he honestly had no idea what that meant. He answered out of curiosity, if nothing else.

“Uh, hello?”

“Hey Chris, it’s Zach.”

“Zach? How did you get my number?”

“You gave it to me last night when you were trashed. I had a feeling you wouldn’t remember.”

“Oh. Yeah. I got nothing.”

“You went to Fuego, we had some drinks…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Chris said, laughing, “I remember that, just…not much else.”

“Well anyway, I just wanted to let you know that we’re having a house party on Friday night. You and your friends should totally come.”

“Um…okay, I’ll have to see if I can…”

“Yeah, I mean, if you can make it, that would be cool. We’re gonna grill and I think we’re planning to get a keg and it should be pretty sweet.”

“Okay, well, should I give you a call or something?”

“Nah, man, just drop by. Everyone’s welcome, seriously. Any time after 8 should be cool.”

“Right.”

“See ya.”

Chris pressed end, but he thought about the call all day.

**

"That Zach guy call you?" Karl asked over Chinese takeout that evening.

"Yeah, to invite me to some party. What the fuck? I don't even remember giving him my phone number."

Karl and Zoe exchanged a smirking glance.

"What? Go ahead, tell me, what the fuck else did I do last night?"

"Nothing, mate. You just...were really enthusiastic about getting his number."

" _Really_ enthusiastic," Zoe added helpfully.

Chris ran a hand over his face. "Oh god. What did I say?"

"You were just kind of going on about how he was your new best friend and how you weren't really like all the other kids from Penn."

"And how you've always felt like you could fit into the Bohemian lifestyle, and that you wanted to help him plant a garden in the spring."

"I believe the phrase 'I can't wait to get my hands dirty' may have come into play."

"Oh motherfuck," Chris said into his hands. He looked up at them. "How drunk was Zach?" he asked hopefully.

"Not drunk enough to forget that you told him you liked his hat approximately fifteen times," Karl said.

"And that since you guys are friends now, he has to have a nickname, so you're going to call him Z Hippie from now on," Zoe said, breaking down into a fit of laughter.

Chris felt his face flush with embarrassment. He _had_ to stop drinking.

"So, are you gonna go to the party?" Karl asked.

"I don't know," Chris groaned. "I was thinking about it, but now, Jesus, I don't know if I can face him knowing all that." He gave them a pleading look. "Come with me?"

Karl shook his head. "Race," he explained.

"Zoe? Come on, please?! He said they're gonna get a keg."

Karl shot him a glare, but Zoe was shaking her head. "Sorry Chris, you're on your own for this one."

"I'm not going by myself."

"You should go," Zoe said, poking him. "Seriously, he seems cool and so did his friends. I'm sure you'll have a good time."

**

To be honest, ever since he’d checked out the place, Chris had felt a nagging urge to find out what life was actually like at 4609 – what his life might be like if he’d ended up there instead of back on campus. Seeing Zach again at Fuego and meeting his friends – seeing the easy camaraderie, the _community_ , made him want it even more. Fuck, now he was sounding like a hippie himself, but it was enough to make him pull on a clean t-shirt and a pair of dark jeans on Friday night and walk the seven blocks to Chester Street.

His courage wavered as he approached 4609, and he realized his error in arriving fashionably late. It was almost 10:30 and the house was packed, people spilling over onto the front porch and down the steps, and he realized that he'd have to fight his way through to even start looking for Zach. He paused on the sidewalk, and had just decided to turn around and leave when someone called out to him from the porch railing. "Hey! Dude! You were at Fuego the other night, right?" Chris nodded, and the guy gestured for him to join them on the porch. Chris steeled himself and walked slowly up the steps.

“Smoke?” the guy said, holding out a pack of cigarettes. Chris shook his head.

“Hey, do you know where Zach is?” he asked. He was sure everyone here was friendly and cool, but he felt like he needed to see someone he knew first in order to get his bearings. Plus, he could really use a drink.

“Think he’s in the back,” said his new friend, taking a drag off the cigarette. “You know your way around?”

Chris nodded and pushed into the house, through the crowded living room and finally found himself pushing open the screen door and stepping into the backyard. The yard was almost as crowded as the house, filled with laughter and the smells of barbecue and weed.

“Chris!”

His eyes traveled to the back of the yard, where Zach was holding court, surrounded by a small circle of friends. He stood up and waved Chris over, passing a joint to someone next to him.

“I’m so glad you came, man!” Zach said, and he sounded so legitimately pleased that Chris decided it had been worth dealing with the nervous uncertainty that twisted his stomach and ran hot across the back of his neck.

“Yeah, of course,” he said, his smile unforced and the nervousness receding in the face of Zach’s warm reception.

Zach moved away from the circle and put his hand on Chris’s shoulder. “Here, let me get you something, you want something to eat, drink?”

“A drink would be great,” Chris said. He was feeling more relaxed already, but some additional social lubrication wouldn’t be unwelcome.

"No one wanted to spring for a keg," Zach apologized. Zach grabbed a bottle from a side table and handed it to him. "Here, this should get you pretty fucked up."

Chris took the bottle, skeptically eyeing the fluorescent red liquid visible through the clear glass. The label said MD 20/20, whatever that meant. He shrugged and took a long swig, then pulled the bottle away from his lips and shuddered. "That is fucking disgusting! And in no way does that taste like -" he examined the label again - "red raspberries? Blech!" Zach shrugged, and then laughed as Chris tilted his head back for another long swig. "Blech!" He handed it back.

“I know. Once you hit a certain level of intoxication, you won’t even notice the taste. Of course, you may also be dead…” Chris laughed. “Hey, you hungry?”

“Starving. But, uh, I didn’t know you could grill tofu,” he joked.

“Actually, I think we do have tofu-dogs on there. But, they’re legitimately disgusting, I would not recommend them. But, we have some pretty decent portabella burgers, veggie burgers, veggie kebabs, um…”

“Yeah, sure, a portabella burger sounds cool.”

Zach introduced him around as he ate his burger and they made their way back to the corner of the yard.

“Yo, Zach!” A blond girl with a faux hawk and a nose ring was making her way across the crowded backyard, stopping when she reached their little circle. “Gonna introduce me to your friend, or what?” she asked, gesturing at Chris and giving him a smile.

“Sure,” Zach said with a roll of his eyes. “Chris, this is Summer, Summer, this is _Chris_.”

Chris reached out to shake her hand but she’d turned fully toward Zach, saying, “Chris? _Chris_ Chris?! The one that was going to...”

“Yeah. That one.”

Chris stood awkwardly, trying not to listen.

“Shit, Zach, he’s hot.” Chris blushed and crossed his arms uncomfortably.

“I told you,” Zach was saying to Summer out of the side of his mouth.

“Yeah, but you usually have very questionable taste, Quinto.” She turned to Chris finally, smiling, and looked him up and down. “Nice to meet you, Chris. Sorry – really sorry, now – about the whole roommate thing. You should definitely come hang out more though. I would love to photograph you.”

Zach groaned and gave Summer a playful shove. “Get the fuck out of here, Summer, you’re terrifying the guests.”

Summer winked and headed back into the crowd as Zach turned back to Chris with an apologetic shake of his head. “Well, that was…awkward.”

Chris smiled and handed him the bottle of questionable alcohol, which Zach accepted gratefully. He took a swig, shuddered, and gestured for Chris to sit.

“So, Summer seems cool,” Chris said as he took a seat.

“Uh huh,” Zach said, noncommittally.

“Is she…a photographer?”

Zach laughed. “Um, I guess? Please don’t encourage her. She’s got a whole photo lab thing set up in the basement, next to the silk-screening set-up from three months back and behind the DJ equipment that she bought six months ago and has used only one, very painful, time.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.” Zach glanced toward the back door of the house, where a few more people had stepped into the yard. “Oh shit, I gotta go say hi to some people. Is it cool if I leave you here for a sec?”

“Oh, um, yeah, sure, of course.”

“Cool, I’ll be right back.” Zach stood and headed through the crowd as someone passed the joint to Chris.

Zach was true to his word and didn’t stay away for too long, although he did have to get up periodically to mingle with his guests. Chris had a pleasant buzz going by that point and found plenty of people willing to talk and share stories around the circle. Hours passed before he finally realized that the crowd had dwindled and it was probably time for him to get back to campus. He swayed a little on his feet as he stood up.

“You alright to get home, man?” Zach asked, not getting up from the lawn chair that barely accommodated his sprawled frame. “You’re welcome to crash here.”

“Oh, uh, I think I’m okay. Thanks though.”

“Right, well, just…don’t get lost okay. ‘Cause I’m pretty sure if it hadn’t been for your friends last time, we would have found your body on some railroad tracks the next day.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence. I’m fine.”

“’f you say so. Later, man.”

“Later.”

Chris did get a little lost on the way home, but he woke up the next morning in his own bed, surprised to find that he remembered the entire party, including Zach and Summer’s invitation to join them for a game of Ultimate Frisbee in Clark Park the next day. He had a paper due Monday, he remembered, but what the hell. Zach and his friends seemed like people he should do his best to get to know, before he got sucked back into the vortex of Penn seniors freaking out over their LSATs and job interviews. So he spent the rest of Saturday afternoon and evening banging out a 10-pager, and headed to Clark Park on Sunday afternoon.

**

Summer saw him crossing the field and ran up to him, calling his name.

“Chris! Chris, you’re on my team,” she said breathlessly, grabbing him by the arm and tugging him toward the group, and toward Zach. “Chris is on my team!” she announced.

Chris shrugged at Zach to indicate that he’d had no say in the matter.

“Alright, alright,” said Zach. “Just keep in mind that I can get a little competitive,” he added, advancing toward Chris. “So, you know, prepare to be shut down.”

“Bring it on,” Chris challenged, laughing. “I can take anything you can dish out.”

“Can we finish with the macho posturing here and play some Ultimate, guys?” Summer asked.

“Oh please,” Zach scoffed. “You perfected the art of macho posturing, Summer.”

“I’ll kick your ass, Quinto,” Summer said, pointing at him.

“See what I mean?” Zach said to Chris.

Chris shrugged and followed Summer onto the field. “Sorry, Zach, looks it’s ass-kicking time!”

The game was fun, but Chris’s favorite part of the day had to be Noah. The dog stuck close to Zach for most of the afternoon, until he took a liking to Chris and started following him around. Which was all well and good until Zach decided to let him off the leash during the game. Chris was going long for a potentially awesome catch when Noah ran under foot and sent him sprawling across the grass. Zach ran over to him, laughing as he watched Noah try to lick Chris’s face off. Chris didn’t mind though, and he rewarded Noah with head scratches and belly rubs as they rolled around on the grass.

“Sorry about that,” Zach said. Chris took the hand that he offered and pulled himself up, brushing grass and gray dog hair off his shirt.

“Don’t apologize! I love this dog. If I thought I was responsible enough to look after more than my own ass, I’d get a dog in a second.” Noah must have recognized a kindred spirit, because he jumped up on Chris again right away, planting his paws on Chris’s waist as Chris cooed to him and tugged on his ears. “Hey buddy! That’s a nice bandana you’ve got there! So stylish!” He glanced up at Zach. “So, do you guys match on purpose or…?”

Zach blushed and tugged Noah away by the collar as Chris’s laughter followed behind him.

  
An hour later Chris collapsed onto the grass, exhausted, as did the rest of the players. Chris grinned over at Zach and gloated at a successful ass-kicking. Zach threw a clump of dirt at him and told Chris they never would have won if it weren’t for Summer’s loose interpretation of the “no-tackle” rule.

“Yeah, well, your dog did his fair share of tackling, too!” Chris laughed. He sat up and stretched.  
“Fuck, I’m starving. You guys wanna get something to eat? What’s good around here?”

“I’ve been craving some Ethiopian, if you’re up for it,” Zach suggested. “I have to take Noah home first, though.”

“I’ll take him home,” Summer offered, standing up. “I’m not hungry.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure. Go! Eat!”

**

“So, I’ve never actually had Ethiopian,” Chris confessed as they were seated at a low table. “What’s it like?”

“It’s, like, delicious. Here, give me that,” Zach said, pulling, the menu gently from Chris’s hands. “I’ll order for us. Just trust me.” Chris looked skeptical, but he was also relatively intimidated, so he let Zach order them a vegetarian platter while he ordered a Yuengling.

When the food came, Chris was even more confused. “What’s going on here?” he asked, looking perplexedly at the different colored blobs of mush set on top of what looked like a huge pancake.

“Let’s see, we have lentils, greens, spicy lentils, chick peas,” Zach said, pointing to the various blobs. “You eat with your hands, like this.” He tore off a piece of the pancake and scooped up a bit of food, so Chris did the same, chewing thoughtfully as he tasted the unfamiliar flavors.

“Pretty good,” he said through his second mouthful. “This pancake thing is awesome.”

“It’s called injera,” Zach told him.

“Uh huh. Well, this injera _pancake_ is awesome,” he said with a grin.

They lingered over the meal, and a second beer and good conversation kept them there for another hour. Chris found Zach fascinating, for the most part, although he did regret asking about the motivation for his art, the answer to which involved far too many references to the spirit of nature and harmony of the earth and there might even have been something about reincarnation in there somewhere. But besides that, he found Zach’s stories about his past interesting, and he enjoyed sharing some of his crazier drinking stories – those that he could remember. Chris insisted on getting the bill and thanked Zach for introducing him to the new cuisine.

“I’m always out to spread the gospel of Ethiopian. Next time I’ll get you one of the sandwiches, they’re amazing.”

Next time. Okay, sure, Chris could live with that. “Sounds good.”

“Oh, and I meant to tell you, if you have some free time any afternoon this week, give me a call and I’ll let you come hang out with my dog. You two really seemed to hit it off, and the weather’s supposed to be really nice.”

“Really? Um, okay. Maybe I’ll do that.”

“Yeah. You should.”

  


  
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	2. Chapter 2

  
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**  
**   


Chris had his finger poised above Zach’s number on his phone around 2 PM every afternoon that week, but each time something stopped him from dialing. He didn’t want to come off like a clingy stalker, but he wasn’t really sure what to say. “I want to spend some quality time with your dog?” “I’ve been in college for three years and yet there is no one here that I’d actually like to hang out with?” “I think you’re cool and funny and every time I catch a whiff of patchouli I think about the first day we met?” Yeah, no. And since he had no idea what would actually come out of his mouth, he decided it was just too risky to make the call.

He was thinking about it again on Thursday afternoon, actually holding the phone in his hand, when Zach called. It was a beautiful day, he said, and he was planning to walk Noah to the park, and would Chris want to meet up with him and maybe throw a disc around? Yes, yes he would.

*

Zach let Noah off the leash when he saw Chris walking across the grass in Clark Park. “Noah!” Chris cried, spreading his arms, and Noah bounded toward him at full speed, nearly knocking him over. Chris stood up when Zach got close, laughing and rubbing happily at Noah’s head.

“Hey Zach, thanks man, this is great. I really do love this dog.”

“He appears to be quite fond of you,” Zach said. “Just don’t let him start humping your leg, okay? He tends to try to move things along in a relationship.”

They walked around the park, then played a little Frisbee. Chris tried to get Noah interested in a game of fetch, to which Noah just gave him a raised eyebrow – that looked quite similar to Zach’s, Chris noticed – and lay down under a tree. Zach was leashing Noah up to take him home when his phone rang.

“Hello? Yeah, I’m still planning to go. What? Come on, don’t do that to me. Fuck you, Summer. Uh huh. Okay, I’ll do that. You cooking for me later, sweetcheeks? K, great. See you soon.” He hung up, rolling his eyes. “Fucking Summer, I knew she’d do this.”

“Do what?”

“Back out on me. We’re supposed to go to a concert on Tuesday night. This band Freelance Whales is playing at the Rotunda and I’ve been wanting to see them live, and now Summer’s decided to go chain herself to a tank or something.”

“Really?!”

“Actually, I have no idea what she’s doing, I stopped listening. Anyway, it’s no big deal, the tickets were only like ten bucks, but it just sucks to go by myself.” He looked at Chris, inspired. “Hey, I don’t suppose you’d want to go?”

“Um, sure.”

“Really? You like that kind of music?”

“I have no idea. But, I’ll go with you, and mock you relentlessly for being a hipster, and you won’t look as lame as you would standing there by yourself.”

Zach laughed. “Well shit, how could I turn down an offer like that?”

“What can I say, I’m a giver.”

“Alright, well, _give_ me a call on Tuesday and we can plan to meet up before the concert.”

**

When Zach came to the door of 4609 on Tuesday evening, Chris raised his eyebrows and asked, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“What?”

“Please tell me this…ensemble…is intended to be ironic,” Chris said, gesturing to Zach’s outfit.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Zach asked, taking offense.

“Well, nothing, if your goal is to meet every hipster stereotype known to man.” Zach was wearing skinny jeans with rolled up cuffs, a blue plaid shirt, a trucker hat, and a pair of chunky black glasses. Chris couldn’t help but think back to the tank top and paint splattered cargoes Zach had been wearing when they first met, and which, upon reflection, he probably shouldn’t be able to visualize so clearly in his mind.

“Yeah, well, come in here,” Zach demanded.

“What? I thought we had to go.”

“We do, but I cannot be seen with you wearing…that,” Zach said, pointing to Chris’s zip-up hoodie that said Abercrombie and Fitch across the front. “Come upstairs.”

Chris rolled his eyes, but followed Zach dutifully to the third floor. Zach’s room was a large space, probably intended to be an attic, but surprisingly light and airy. Most of the space seemed to be used as Zach’s studio – painted canvases had been propped against the walls and plywood boards laid across bricks served as shelves to keep the paint supplies out of Noah’s reach. The “bedroom” part consisted of a futon, a doggie bed, and a dresser, through which Zach was currently rummaging. “Here,” he said, pulling out a blue and black striped hoodie. “This one matches your eyes.”

“Nice,” said Chris, as he pulled it on. “Where’d you get it?”

“Second Mile. It’s a thrift store? Down the street?” he said, in response to Chris’s confused look.

“Ah. I thought hipsters got everything from American Apparel?”

Zach shook his head as they headed down the stairs. “That’s only hipsters with parental incomes.”

“Of course.”

“ _Like Summer_ ,” Zach whispered.

Chris raised an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

“Yeah, hence the ability to pay the rent _and_ invest in new hobbies. She grew up on the Main Line. I think she’s convinced her parents that she’s studying the West Philadelphia squatter culture as part of her dissertation or some shit. It’s pretty impressive, actually.”

“What about your parents?”

“It’s just my mom, actually. She’s still in Pittsburgh. My dad died when I was young.”

“Shit, I’m sorry.”

Zach shrugged.

“Is your mom cool with you being an artist?”

“She just wants me to be happy, I think. As long as I can support myself…and it’s not like she has a choice. I don’t think I could _not_ be an artist, you know what I mean?”

Chris didn’t, really, but he nodded anyway. He couldn’t help but admire Zach’s ability to make his way in the world and to do it exactly how he wanted to. Chris harbored a vague hope that he’d be able to do the same thing, but he had no way of knowing yet if he’d be able to when the time came. His parents had always been focused on grades and extracurricular activities, getting into a good school, succeeding in a good school, and then…he wasn’t quite sure what came next. He changed the subject before Zach could ask.

They grabbed drinks after the concert, then parted ways with a non-committal “see you around.” Chris felt vaguely disappointed that they hadn’t made any plans to hang out again, and wondered if the past week had been a fluke, if maybe it hadn’t been a build up to a real friendship as he’d hoped. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d made a friend without the crutch of shared classes and dorm halls, and he found the prospect rather exhilarating.

**

Chris thought about Zach a few times over the course of the next week – thought about inviting him to a frat party, then to half-priced margarita night at Mad Mex – but he stopped himself each time, feeling like those things were immature and shallow and not at all things that would interest Zach. He even considered asking Karl if they could throw a party in their apartment, just as an excuse to invite Zach. But, that wasn’t really what he wanted. He wanted to…hang out, to talk about life and blabber on about his playwriting class and listen to Zach blabber on about the art scene in Philadelphia. After class the next Tuesday, he had almost justified heading out to Fuego just to see if he could run into Zach. Or maybe he could just…Fuck it. He pulled out his phone and dialed Zach’s number.

The call went straight to voicemail, and though he was tempted to hang up, he forced himself to leave a message. “Uh, hey Zach, it’s Chris. Um, I’m bored as shit and I was wondering if you might want to, uh, hang out or something. Like we could-“ he paused, trying desperately to think of something he could suggest- “grab drinks or something,” he finished lamely. “So, give me a call. Um, bye.” He hung up and reflected on the absolute travesty that was that message, and he was still holding the phone five minutes later when Zach called back.

“Hello?”

“Hey man, I’m kind of in the middle of a thing here, but you should totally come by 4609 if you want to hang out for a while.”

“Yeah? Are you sure? I don’t want to interrupt…”

“No, come over, I’ll be done soon and we can grab drinks or something, like you said. I’ve been painting for like three days straight, I could use some social interaction.”

“Okay. I’ll, uh, just head on over then.”

“Sweet. See ya soon.”

**

Chris rang the doorbell twice, knocked a few times, and was about ready to turn around and leave when he finally heard footsteps inside. Harvest pulled open the door, glanced at Chris, and turned back into the house, saying “Zach’s upstairs. And next time you can just come right in.”

“Um, okay,” Chris said, surprised, but he went inside and took the stairs two at a time up to the third floor.

He stood in the doorway for a few minutes, watching Zach paint and shake his hips to the sound of _Womanizer_ coming from the iPod speakers on the floor. Noah glanced up lazily from his doggie bed in the corner, gave Chris a discerning look, and set his head back down, bored.

“Was that Britney?” Chris said when the song ended. “That could seriously damage your hipster cred, you know.”

Zach startled at the sound of Chris’s voice, but he was focused on the canvas and he answered without turning around. “Yeah, well, I’ve got to balance the hipster cred with the fag cred, ya know? It’s a very fine line.” He finished the line he was painting with a flourish and turned around, smiling at Chris where he was leaning on the doorframe.

“Okay, so, shouldn’t you be listening to Lady Gaga then? Kill two birds with one stone?” Chris mused.

Zach threw his head back and laughed. “You’re funny,” he said, pointing at Chris with his paintbrush. “That was good. I’m gonna use that,” he said, turning back to the painting, as though he couldn’t look away from it for too long, or he’d lose his inspiration.

Chris walked across the room and sank down to the floor to give Noah a good scratch between his ears. Zach glanced back at him.

“I knew you were only here to hang out with my dog,” he said.

“Hey, could you butt out; we’re having a moment here.”

“I see how it is. You’ve got ten minutes, then I plan to monopolize your attentions.”

Noah turned over onto his back, and Chris scratched his belly to the sound of happy panting. After a few minutes, though, Chris stepped away from the dog and moved over to peruse the piles of books that surrounded Zach’s futon. He was a good ten pages into _The Crying of Lot 49_ when Zach finally set down his paintbrush and wiped his hands on his cargo pants. “You ready for that drink?”

“Sure,” Chris said distractedly, finishing his paragraph and setting the book face down on Zach’s bed to keep his place. “Fuego?”

“Seems a shame to be inside on such a nice day. Wanna just go to the bodega around the corner and pick up a couple forties, drink them on the porch?”

“I think that’s the best idea I’ve heard all week.”

**

“It should be illegal for something this cheap to get me this fucked up,” Chris groaned, dropping his empty bottle onto the porch as he slumped further into the couch.

“I know, right,” said Zach, who had given up sitting completely and was lying on his back with his feet over the side.

“Think I’m gonna head back. Shit.”

“What?”

“I meant to ask if I could borrow your book.” Chris looked mournfully at the front door and thought about walking up two flights of stairs. “Yeah, that’s not happening.”

“Come back tomorrow.”

“What?”

“Come back over tomorrow, you can read it here.” Zach patted the couch.

“I have class.”

“Fine, the next day, then. Whatever. Bring your homework. Bring a six-pack. I’ll make dinner.”

“Uh huh. That sounds like a recipe for getting no work done whatsoever.”

“Fine,” said Zach, sitting up. “Far be it from me to deprive the library of your presence. I’m just sayin’, it’s a comfy couch.”

*

It _was_ a comfy couch, and Chris found himself there more afternoons than not over the next couple weeks. He finished _The Crying of Lot 49_ and perfected the art of reading literature through a pleasant haze of red wine and cool autumn air. Half the time, he was there by himself while Zach painted upstairs or was out of the house running errands. The other roommates didn’t blink an eye at his presence, except to stop and exchange a few sentences, steal a sip of whatever he was drinking, or bring him a plate of hummus and veggies. The rest of the time, Zach would join him with a book of his own, and only a few times did Chris realize that they’d both set their books down and had been talking for hours, and he had to get himself back to campus so he could actually get some work done.

*

Chris banged in through the door of the apartment to find Karl making a gigantic sandwich, using what appeared to be every ingredient in the kitchen. “Hey Karl.”

“Hey. You coming to Zoe’s tonight to watch _Lost_?”

“Uh, shit. I can’t, I really have to get an outline done for this paper.”

Karl rolled his eyes. “Come on, I barely see you any more, man!”

“You barely see me ever, Karl. Your schedule is whack.”

“Uh huh.”

“And I’ve been spending a lot of time off-campus,” Chris muttered.

“With that guy Zach? You guys have got kind of an epic bromance going, haven’t you?” Karl asked cheekily.

“I don’t even know what that means, Karl,” Chris said, raising an eyebrow. “We’re friends, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Okay.”

“Speaking of which, you and Zo seem to be hovering on the edge of something that history has shown to be a bad idea. What’s up with that?”

“We’re friends, if that’s what you’re asking,” Karl said, throwing his words back at him.

Chris rolled his eyes. “You around this week?”

“A bit.”

“We’ll hang out soon, I promise.”

Karl nodded and took a massive bite of his sandwich.

**

Chris was back at 4609 the next day, sprawled on the couch facing Zach, both immersed in their own books as they passed a bottle of cheap wine lazily between them. Chris felt warm and content, despite the light drizzle that was falling just beyond the porch roof. He turned a page and accepted the bottle of wine from Zach when they heard a shout from the sidewalk.

“Yo, asshole!” someone yelled, and Chris felt his body tense, ready to face some punkass neighborhood kids.

But Zach was looking up from his book and grinning, yelling “Choseph!” and leaping down the porch steps into the arms of a grinning Asian guy with a messy mohawk and a beat up duffel bag across his back.

Chris felt his chest tighten at the sight of Zach with his arms wrapped tightly around the guy, who looked thrilled to be the recipient of that hug. Zach pulled back and kissed him on the forehead, then wrinkled his nose. “Phew, man, you stink.”

“That’s rich, coming from you, Quinto,” Cho said with a grin. “New roommate?” He nodded toward the porch, and Chris plastered on a smile and extended a hand.

“New friend. Cho, this is Chris, Chris, Cho. Cho used to live with us, what was it, six, seven months ago?” Cho shrugged as if time were the least of his concerns. “Told us he was leaving, hopped a freight, and headed West, right?”

Cho nodded. “Yup. Made it all the way to San Fran, baby!”

“Jesus, Cho, why the hell’d you come back here?”

“Missed Fuego,” Cho said with a wink. “The West Coast man, I don’t know. Just not my style. I missed the iron and the grit.”

“Filthadelphia.”

“Hells yeah, Thrilladelphia.” They laughed, so obviously comfortable with each other that Chris felt distinctly out of place, and a gnawing in his gut convinced him that it was time to go.

“I think I’m gonna head back to campus,” he said, grabbing his backpack and heading off the porch.

“You go to Penn?”

“Yeah.” Chris saw Cho flash Zach a look that seemed to ask “what’s happened to you since I left?”

Zach ignored Cho’s look and turned to Chris, shoving his hands in his pockets and giving him a shy look. “Come out to Fuego tonight though? Once everyone finds out Cho’s back in town it’s gonna be a party for reals.”

Chris felt his heart jump in his chest at the pleading tone that he could sense in Zach’s voice, but he had a feeling he wouldn’t be going to Fuego. Still, he shrugged and said “yeah, maybe” before he turned to go.

He could still hear Zach’s voice behind him as he made his way down the block. “You’re staying with me, man,” Zach was saying to Cho, “and I don’t want to hear it. You can do your noble homeless act later, tonight you’re getting a shower and a real bed.”

“A real bed?” he heard Cho ask skeptically.

“Okay, fine, half a futon, but no complaining or you can trade places with Noah.”

Chris heard the screen door slam as they stepped inside, and he picked up his pace as he made his way home through the rain.

*

His phone rang at 3:30 the next day and he answered it on the first ring, suddenly realizing that he’d been waiting all day for Zach to call.

“Hey,” he said blandly, tamping down his excitement.

“You didn’t come by last night,” Zach said. He sounded…hurt? Or maybe he was just surprised. Now that Chris thought about it, it _was_ the first time he’d turned down an invitation from Zach.

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

“What happened? Frat party or something?”

Actually, it had been a _Project Runway_ marathon at Zoe’s - a chance to catch up with his friends, gorge on pepperoni pizza, watch shitty reality TV, and bitch about grades and graduation requirements.

“Nah, I just had some shit to do.”

He could practically hear Zach chewing on his lip as he searched for a response. “Yeah. Well, you missed a sweet party. People were asking about you.”

Chris felt a pang of regret and pushed it to the back of his mind.

“And you shoulda heard some of Cho’s stories.”

“Yeah, he seemed cool. I just figured you guys might want some time to catch up and stuff.”

“Yeah, well, he’s probably gonna stay with us for a little while, so you should come over soon and hear about his adventures. Some crazy shit, man. He was telling us how he went skinny dipping this one time and-“

“Look, I gotta go, Zach, but I’ll talk to you later, okay? I just, I’ve got some work I have to finish before class.”

“Oh. Okay. Well, later man.”

“Yeah. Later.”

**

Chris avoided 46th Street and Fuego for a few more days, and Zach didn’t call again. Chris found himself wondering if that was it, if he had been an entertaining diversion while Cho was gone and now that Zach had his real friend back, he’d been effectively forgotten. He got his papers written, read ahead for class, started drinking on Friday at 5:00 and didn’t stop until Saturday at 3:00 AM. He spent Sunday vomiting into every single trashcan in the apartment, to Karl’s immense displeasure.

“You’re a wreck, Pine. What the fuck happened to you? And how come your friend Zach isn’t here to hold your hair back, ‘cause I’m sure as hell not doin’ it.”

Chris scowled at him, gave him the finger, and dry heaved into the kitchen trashcan.

“That’s disgusting. I’m outta here, take care of yourself alright?”

“Where you going?” Chris managed to ask, his voice scratchy.

“Library,” Karl said shortly, and Chris narrowed his eyes.

“Oh yeah? If I call Zoe, will she tell me she’s going to the library too?”

Karl flushed a little. “We’re studying together, is that allowed?”

“Whatever. Just, when you guys do it, do it in the science stacks, okay? I don’t want your jizz all over my literature.”

“I’m gonna come on Keats, just for you.”

“I’m going to vomit on your pillow.”

“You’d better not,” Karl called back to him as he shut the door.

Chris slumped dejectedly onto the couch and fell into a restless doze, until he was awakened by the buzz of his phone. He answered before he even thought to check who it was.

“’Lo,” he said groggily.

“Hey, Chris.” Fuck, it was Zach. “We’re getting a game of night Ultimate going in Clark Park, you want in?”

“Fuck, Zach, I can’t even move right now,” he said gruffly, annoyed at Zach for calling and at himself for wanting to go and at his stomach for not letting him.

“Fine,” Zach said curtly. “I guess I’ll see you around then.”

“Uh, have fun?” Chris said weakly, trying to salvage something.

“Sure,” Zach said, ending the call.

**

Chris broke down and called Zach on Tuesday night.

“Hello?”

“Hey Zach, it’s Chris.”

“Yeah, I saw.”

Chris bit his lip and struggled to think of what to say. “Look, I really was sick the other night.”

“Okay.”

“You, uh…you want to hang out some time?” Or are you busy with Cho, he wanted to add.

“Um. Okay. House dinner’s tomorrow night, you wanna come?”

“What’s for dinner? You know how I feel about weird grains and shit,” he said, trying to get a hold of that joking ease that he’d missed over the past week.

“We’re having pasta,” Zach said, ignoring Chris’s comment. “Fresh tomato sauce. I’m making it.”

“Well, I suppose I could make an appearance,” Chris said, and his stomach clenched in a way that he decided not to think about.

“Starts at seven.”

“Right. See you then.”

He hung up the phone, and thought about the feelings that were rushing through him. He thought about seeing Zach again, and he felt his heart speed up. That sure as hell didn’t happen when he thought about grabbing dinner with Karl.

Fuck.

**

Chris walked into 4609 without knocking, like he’d been doing for the past few weeks. It felt different now, and when Summer smiled at him from the couch and said “Zach’s in the kitchen,” he somehow felt like he’d been caught. He shook his head at the thought and headed through the house, swallowing hard when he caught sight of Zach’s long frame standing with his back to Chris at the stove. Chris forced himself to be casual, tried to remember how it had been between him and Zach, as he leaned back against the counter.

“Hey, Zach.”

“Hey,” Zach said, shooting him a small smile before turning his attention back to the pot.

 _Missed you_ , Chris almost said, and maybe that would have been normal, maybe that would have been fine, but he swallowed it back nonetheless and stood there awkwardly for a long moment.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” Zach said, still looking at the pot. “You can have a seat.” He called everyone to the table and Chris took a seat, trying not to feel annoyed when Rachel and Harvest sat down on either side of him. Zach dished out the food and ended up at the opposite corner of the table, next to Cho. Chris felt a giddy sense of nervousness throughout dinner, contributing little to the conversation except to laugh somewhat excessively at Zach’s lame jokes. The food was delicious, but it was all he could do to make himself force it down into his clenched-tight stomach. Chris was actually thankful for Cho, who held everyone’s attention through most of dinner, which meant that Chris could watch Zach watch Cho, watch how he quirked an eyebrow right before he was about to make a joke, watch how he threw his head back whenever he laughed. A few times, Zach caught Chris’s eye across the table, but his expression was always inscrutable, no matter how long Chris looked back.

“What are you doing for Thanksgiving, Chris?” Rachel asked. Chris saw Zach glance up at him quickly as he turned to answer.

“Oh, uh. Not sure. Last year Karl and I had an ‘80’s movie marathon and gorged ourselves on Boston Market. I know we’ll both be around, and probably Zoe will, too.”

“You guys should come here,” said Summer. “We’re feeding all the strays,” she added with a wink.

“Don’t listen to them,” Cho interjected, laughing. “They invite as many people as they can and then make you pay for the booze.”

“If the food’s as good as tonight’s dinner, I think that would be a pretty fair deal,” Chris managed to respond, not looking at Zach.

“Well, you’ve got three weeks to decide,” said Zach, leaning back in his chair. “So, you know. Let us know.”

**

Zach walked Chris to the door and shoved his hands deep in his pockets as he said goodbye. He was still staring down the block after Chris had turned the corner when Cho joined him on the porch.

“That Penn kid’s gone on you, man. You hit that yet?”

“Jesus, Cho, could you be a little more crude?” Zach said, finally tearing his eyes away from the street.

“I’m just callin’ it like I see it. You haven’t, have you?”

Zach blushed and shook his head.

“Fuck, look at you, you’ve got it just as bad for him!”

“I have no idea if he’s even gay, Cho.”

“Who the fuck cares if he is? He’s a senior in college, he’s got to get his experimentation on before he leaves the bubble and enters the real world. It’s practically your duty to help him out.”

“I find it humorous that you consider where you live the real world, Cho.”

“Pshh, whatever, dude. Go ahead, avoid the question if you want. Just, please, promise me that at some point, you’ll get him drunk and stick your tongue down his throat. I guarantee you’ll be pleased with the results.”

“And I guarantee that if that ever happens, you will not be informed as to the results.”

Cho grinned knowingly. “I just want you to be happy, dude.”

Zach raised an eyebrow. “Oh yes, getting someone drunk and jumping them is my definition of happiness. Yeah, right. You thrive on gossip, Cho, it’s kind of demented.”

Cho leaned back against the porch rail. “Harvest seeing anyone?”

“Goodnight, Cho,” Zach said, rolling his eyes and heading back into the house.

“Night, loverboy,” he heard Cho call after him as he made his way up the stairs. He felt restless, unsettled, and thought about picking up his paintbrush and seeing what happened. But when he got upstairs he lost all motivation and collapsed across his futon. He buried his face in a pillow for a moment before he felt a warm nose nuzzling at his elbow.

“Hey, boy,” he said to Noah, propping himself up on his elbows. He pulled his phone from his pocket. “What do you think? Would it be crazy to call him right now?”

Noah sniffed the phone and promptly began licking Zach’s hand. “Alright, alright,” Zach said, laughing, as he pushed Noah’s hairy face away. He sat up cross-legged on the bed and dialed Chris’s number.

**

“Hello?”

“Hey Chris.” Zach’s tone was subdued.

“Hi. Did I forget something?” If he were being honest with himself, Chris had been hoping Zach would call. He just…hadn’t expected it so soon.

“No, um, this is going to sound weird, but are you back to your place yet?”

“No, not yet.”

“Would you want to…stay out for a little while longer? Maybe drink a couple forties in the park or something?”

“Oh. Yeah, sure. I could do that.”

“Sweet. I’ll grab the drinks and meet you there.”

“Great. See you in a minute.”

 

Chris had already arrived and gotten comfortable among the roots of a large oak tree, when he saw Zach approaching. He waved when he saw Zach peering into the darkness.

“Just you?” he asked, surprised and pleased to see that Zach was alone.

“Yeah,” Zach said, taking a seat. “I thought maybe we could just chill. I needed a break from the house, ya know?”

Chris chuckled. “Yeah. Yeah, I understand completely. I’d imagine that kind of communal living can get a little intense sometimes.”

“Yeah.” Zach handed him a forty, wrapped in a paper bag. “Did you enjoy dinner?”

“Yeah, of course,” Chris said, wondering if his earlier surliness had shown through. They uncapped their bottles and sat for a few moments, drinking in comfortable silence.

“What do you think of Cho?” Zach asked after a little while.

Chris bit his lip. He’d been hoping to avoid the topic of Cho entirely, but now that it was out there, he decided to go for it. "Was he your boyfriend or something?" Chris asked. It came out more abruptly than he’d intended.

"What?! Cho?!"

"Yeah."

"Fuck no!" Zach said, laughing. When his laughter trailed off, he turned toward Chris, his expression serious. "Is that what this is about?"

"What what is about?"

"The...avoiding me." Zach slid closer, until they were side by side against the wide tree trunk. Chris didn't answer for a moment, so Zach asked him softly, "Were you really sick on Sunday night?"

"Yes," Chris groaned, putting his face in his hands. His next words were muffled. "I was hungover as shit because I spent the entire weekend drinking because -“ Chris paused and swallowed hard, “because I was jealous of Cho." Chris squeezed his eyes shut behind his hands and waited for the fallout of his confession.

He felt Zach’s fingers scratch lightly at his lower back and heard the rustle of a paper bag as Zach lifted his bottle to his lips. Chris turned to looked at him, locking eyes as Zach took a long sip of the booze. He set the bottle down carefully, screwed the cap on, and then turned toward Chris, and they leaned in simultaneously for a kiss that felt like it had been waiting there for them all along. Chris had barely felt the pressure of Zach’s mouth on his before their lips were parting and their tongues sliding together and Zach’s hand was in his hair, pulling him closer. He felt like they’d been doing this for months, like he could keep doing it for months. Like they already knew how their lips fit together. Like a sigh of relief, and he felt himself relaxing under Zach’s touch.

Zach broke the kiss to press his lips to Chris’s jaw, and Chris’s voice was pained as he whispered against Zach’s skin in the darkness. “But, Cho’s been sleeping in your bed.”

Zach stroked his thumb along Chris’s cheek. “Oh Chris. If I’d had any idea that you wanted to be there, Cho would have been sleeping on the porch for the whole fucking week.”

Chris gave a rueful chuckle and pressed his lips to Zach’s again.

“Stay with me tonight?” Zach mumbled into the kiss.

Chris squeezed his eyes shut against the flood of warmth that rushed through him in response. He shook his head.

“Why not?”

“I just…fuck…just, not yet, okay?” He wasn’t sure why, except that he felt like he wanted to cry a little, and he thought he should probably get that out of his system before he embarrassed himself in Zach’s bed.

“Okay.” Zach’s quiet acquiescence almost made Chris change his mind, but instead he smiled and pulled Zach in to kiss some more.

**

Chris managed to wait until he was back in his room, in his bed with the lights out, before he pulled out his phone and dialed Zach’s number. It occurred to him that Zach might have gone to sleep already, but he answered on the first ring.

“Chris,” he said by way of greeting, his voice soft and sweet.

“I’m an idiot for not going home with you tonight, aren’t I?”

Zach’s laugh was low and intoxicating and Chris snuggled further under the covers to stop himself from getting up and running back to 4609 right then and there. “Yeah,” Zach agreed.

“Fuck,” said Chris, but he knew Zach could hear the smile in his voice.

“It’s okay,” Zach was saying. “It...wasn’t a one time offer.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Hey Z?”

“Yeah?”

“Come to a party with me tomorrow night?”

A beat passed before Zach answered, his voice cautious. “What kind of party?”

“A…house party.”

“Uh huh. What kind of house?”

“Okay, fine, it’s a frat party, but I swear it will be fun,” he said in a rush. “I won’t leave your side, and there’s free booze.” He really hoped one of those two would convince Zach to come.

“Free booze, huh?”

Chris laughed. That would be the one that worked. “Yeah, free booze.”

“And you won’t leave me alone to get eaten alive by bros wearing Abercrombie and Fitch?”

“Promise.”

“K.”

“You’ll come?!”

“I will.”

“See you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Chris.”

Chris flopped onto his pillow, grinning so hard his eyes watered.

**

Chris picked up and put down his book ten times before he gave up and resorted to pacing around the living room as he waited for Zach to arrive. When he heard the knock on the door, he stopped to take a few deep, calming breaths, centering himself, not wanting to appear too eager. Another knock, and he was jumping over the back of the couch to get to it, all semblance of nonchalance lost as he opened the door to grin idiotically at Zach. Luckily, Zach was grinning back at him, and looking damn good doing it.

Chris let his eyes travel over Zach’s body, checking him out. Chris was startled to realize he’d probably been doing that every time he’d seen Zach, starting with the day they’d first met, when he was wearing those cargo pants and that tank top that showed off his biceps and - okay, he had _definitely_ checked him out that day. As much as he’d liked the tank top, he had to admit that Zach looked amazing right now, standing at his door in a black t-shirt that looked as though it had been molded to fit his body and a pair of jeans that had come by their rips honestly and not for $115 at J. Crew. He was clean-shaven and smelled like non-patchouli scented soap and Chris had never really thought there was such a thing as sexy hair, but there it was.

“Christ, you clean up nice,” Chris said, when he’d taken it all in.

“I’ll try hard not to take offense to that comment,” Zach said with a smile as he stepped inside. They heard a door open down the hall and Karl stepped out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. He glanced at them and did a double take.

“Oh. Hey, Zach.”

“Hey, Karl.”

“You comin’ to the party tonight?”

“Yep.”

“Cool. Head out in twenty, Chris?”

“Sure thing,” Chris said, and Karl wandered down the hall into his room.

When the door shut, Zach pulled Chris to him by the waist, kissing him lightly on the lips before whispering, “Show me your room?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Chris whispered back.

“Why not?”

“Because,” Chris said, wrapping his arms around Zach’s neck, “I feel like you might try to seduce me, and then we’ll never leave.”

“Dammit,” Zach said, chuckling in his ear, “there goes my master plan.” He ran his hands up to cup Chris’s face. “Chris.” His tone was serious and Chris raised an eyebrow at him.

“What?”

“I want to kiss you all over your cute face.”

Chris laughed and blushed a little and said, “okay.” He lifted his eyes to meet Zach’s gaze and smiled as Zach kissed him tenderly on the lips. Chris could feel the energy humming between them, a desperate anticipation that had been building over the past two months, but they managed to keep their kisses sweet and shallow, tongues brushing just enough to remove any doubt that they were both waiting for more.

They pulled apart just seconds before Karl stepped into the hall to tell them he was ready to go. Chris made sure to leave the apartment first, subtly adjusting himself as they headed out the door and smiling as he noticed Zach doing the same.

**

Chris shoved his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching for Zach as they walked over to Pi Kappa and made their way inside. He did grab Zach’s wrist to pull him through the crowd toward the basement, as Karl was waylaid by a few of his crew buddies. Downstairs, his appearance was met with shouts of “Yo, Pine!” and he let go of Zach to greet what seemed like half of the entire basement. He shrugged apologetically, but Zach just smiled and looked impressed that he had other friends. Finally, they managed to make their way to the beer pong table.

“Do you want to be on my team?” Chris asked loudly enough to be heard over the pounding music.

Zach smirked at him. “Do _you_ want to be on _mine_?”

Chris wouldn’t have guessed that they played a lot of beer pong at Sarah Lawrence, but Zach had obviously had practice, as he sunk the first two shots. Thank god, too, because Chris seemed to have lost all of the skill that he’d worked so hard to cultivate over three years of intense practice. Chris was acutely aware that his poor performance may have had something to do with the fact that Zach’s t-shirt stretched across his chest and clung to his biceps whenever he reached his long arm across the table to take a shot. Or that he ran a hand through his hair whenever he missed, a carefully calculated motion that resulted in every strand falling perfectly back into place. After his fifth atrocious turn, Chris set his focus, aimed, licked his lips, and took the shot. The ping pong ball circled the rim and dropped in, and when he turned to high five Zach he saw his eyes darken with lust, and he licked his lips again. Chris felt hot and dizzy and giddy with desire, but they were winning, and they managed to hold the table until Karl and Zoe found their way over and gave them a solid ass-kicking.

As the night progressed, Chris noticed that Zach stuck close to him, but didn’t touch, didn’t reach out and put an arm around him or anything else that might have made him uncomfortable in front of his friends. By the time they left the basement, Chris was going nearly crazy with it, and he reached over to slip his fingers through one of Zach’s belt loops as they headed up the stairs. Zach smiled shyly at the contact and let his fingers brush against Chris’s.

“You ready to get out of here?” Zach asked. “I don’t want to rush you, I mean…” He broke off into a smile as Chris tugged him all the way to the front door and pushed him out into the cool night.

**

They were barely inside the apartment before Zach grabbed Chris around the waist and pulled him in for a long kiss. And Chris might have stayed right there all night, but the sudden image of Zach sprawled on his bed and their clothes strewn across the bedroom floor had him breaking the kiss and tugging Zach insistently down the hall.

“I swear to god, Chris,” Zach said, letting Chris lead him, “if I have to wait one more second to get my hands on you, I’m going to explode.”

Chris yanked him into the bedroom, shut the door, and pressed Zach up against it. “Just your hands?” he breathed, sliding his up and under Zach’s t-shirt.

“Hands, lips,” Zach said, kissing and sucking at his neck, “everything.” He slid a hand down to Chris’s ass and pushed their hips together. “You were driving me crazy all night, you have no idea.”

“Shut up,” Chris groaned, “I swear half the fraternity was checking you out.” He licked into Zach’s mouth, tasting cheap beer and remembering the sweet anticipation that had been burning through him all night. “Want you so bad, Zach, fuck,” he said, and he could hear the desperation in his own voice, but he couldn’t stop himself.

Zach sounded just as far gone, he could barely take his lips off of Chris to ask him “What, Chris, what do you want, god, fuckin’, anything,” and then their mouths met again like magnets and they had to stop talking again. Chris pulled Zach by the hips toward the bed, loathe to stop kissing long enough to make the suggestion, but Zach got the idea fast enough and they tumbled onto Chris’s twin bed.

Zach fumbled at the buttons of Chris’s shirt until it fell open, and he could run his hand over Chris’s chest, and down his sides, and slide a hand around to rub wantonly at the bulge in his jeans. Chris moaned into Zach’s mouth and pressed into his hand, and his skin felt like electricity. But Zach was pulling back from the kiss, breathless. “I’m sorry,” he panted, moving his hand away from Chris’s crotch, and Chris whimpered and clutched at him, trying to bring him back.

“What’s wrong?”

Zach propped himself on an elbow, still pressed along Chris’s side, and ran a hand through his hair. “I just…I have to ask you something.”

“Okay,” Chris said, breathing hard, his hand wrapped around Zach’s bicep to make sure he couldn’t get away. “Hurry up and ask, and then kiss me again.”

“Is this some kind of…experimentation thing for you?” Zach asked, his eyes focused on his fingers as he ran them idly across Chris’s chest, as if he didn’t want to see the answer on Chris’s face.

Chris gripped his chin and made him look, pulled him down to kiss him hard, plunging his tongue deep into Zach’s mouth, making him feel it. Then he let go, holding Zach’s gaze for a moment before softly saying, “No, Z. It’s not. I got that out of my system freshman year.” He tipped his forehead against Zach’s and took a deep breath. “I _really_ like you.”

Zach closed his eyes, swallowed, and nodded against his forehead. “I’m glad,” he breathed.

“Can I experiment with kissing you again now?” Chris asked, and in answer Zach cut off his grin with a kiss. Chris slid his hand down Zach’s arm, taking hold of his hand and pressing it against his crotch again, and Zach chuckled against his jaw. But he pressed his palm over the line of Chris’s cock and Chris groaned and pushed Zach’s hand away to undo his own fly, and Zach’s fingers twitched as he waited to touch. And when he did, he breathed hot against Chris’s neck as he worked his hand into Chris’s boxers, and he squeezed his eyes shut as he wrapped his fist around Chris’s length, hot and hard and perfect in his hand.

“God, Chris, fuck, want you so bad, fuckin’…” He paused and leaned back a little. “How long have we known each other?”

Chris tilted his head up a little to catch Zach’s eye. “Um…like two months?”

Zach leaned back down to kiss and lick at Chris’s collarbone. “Mmm…I’ve been wanting to do this for two fucking months.”

Chris groaned and pushed his fingers into Zach’s hair as Zach moved down, licking over his nipples, running his hands over Chris’s ribs and finally pressing his jeans and boxers down over his hips. He pressed his nose and lips against Chris’s pelvis, letting Chris’s cock bump against his cheek as he took in his scent, feeling how Chris was responding to him, the play of muscles underneath his skin, the rapid sound of his breathing. Zach glanced up to see Chris watching him, his eyes hooded with desire, and Zach smiled and licked a sloppy trail up his dick. Chris stilled completely, breathed deeply, and let Zach take control. He let out an involuntarily moan when he felt the heat of Zach’s mouth over the tip, but that was nothing compared to the seal of Zach’s lips around his cock. Zach bobbed his head so Chris could watch his dick sliding in and out of Zach’s mouth, glistening wetly in the dim light, and he was already feeling close when Zach took his entire length in and sucked him hard. He was moaning incoherently, trying to give some sort of warning when Zach looked up at him and winked, and he was gone, his cock pulsing hard as Zach swallowed with ease.

Zach pulled off and smiled up at him, dropping kisses on his thighs and stomach as he moved back up the bed. Chris wanted to smile back but instead he just opened and closed his mouth a few times, and when he did manage to speak it was to groan and say “fuck.” Then they were kissing again and Chris only pulled away to gasp, “Where the fuck have you been all my life?”

Zach laughed and Chris reached for his fly, and Zach helped him and together they got his pants off and Chris wrapped a hand around him and stroked him and said, “Is this okay?”

Zach laughed and thrust his hips a little and said, “Fuck yes,” and Chris focused, pumping his fist harder, thinking of everything he liked and trying to make it even better for Zach. And it must have worked, but it wasn’t long before Zach’s kisses were getting sloppier and his breath was coming faster and he panted into Chris’s ear, “Oh god, Chris, I’m gonna come, shit-“

Chris managed two more swift strokes before Zach shuddered, and Chris felt a hot splash across his stomach. When he caught his breath, Zach looked up at Chris slyly, and he leaned down to run his tongue along Chris’s hipbone, licking a trail through the come decorating his skin.

“Holy fucking Christ,” Chris gasped weakly, staring down at Zach in disbelief.

Zach licked his lips and looked up at him. “What? Gross?”

“Fuck no. Just…nngh…so hot I think my brain might explode.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, just…fucking get up here and kiss the fuck out of me with your hot, filthy mouth.”

Zach scrambled up the bed and pressed his tongue into Chris’s mouth, their hands roaming over each others’ bodies as they kissed. When Zach pulled away, it was only to run his fingers along Chris’s cheek and look him in the eye to ask, “How the hell did I get so lucky?”

Chris’s eyes sparkled as he kissed Zach tenderly on the lips. “I was asking myself the same thing.”

 

“Hey Zach,” Chris began, when their mouths were tired from kissing and they lay tangled together under the sheet.

“Yeah?”

“Why did you ask me that before, about experimenting?”

“I…well, Cho said something…

“Really, Zach? You’re gonna bring up Cho while you’re in bed with me?”

“Hear me out, okay? Cho is the reason I ever even thought this –“ he gestured between them, “could be a possibility. So, actually, you kinda owe him. Since you sure as hell weren’t making the first move.”

Chris punched him gently in the shoulder. “Shut up,” he mumbled. “I might have made a move…eventually.”

“Yeah, eventually, like, in the spring you probably would have asked me to the prom or some shit.”

“Shut up!” Chris said, laughing now, hitting him a little harder.

“And what did you mean, anyway, when you said you got that out of your system freshman year, huh?” Zach asked playfully. “You gonna fill me in on the details, or what?”

“Ugh, please, don’t make me think about that…misguided period of my life.”

“It couldn’t have been _that_ misguided. It certainly left an impression on you,” Zach said, propping himself up on an elbow.

“Yeah, well, believe me, if I’d been hooking up with guys like you, I’d have no problem remembering it.”

“Like me how?”

“Hot. Smart. Not a douchebag. Gorgeous. Intelligent. Shall I go on?”

Zach laughed. “So you spent your freshman year hooking up with ugly, dumb, douchebags?”

“No, I spent, like, one whole month trying to stick my tongue down the throat of every closeted senior frat boy that looked twice at me. Oh god, I feel ill just thinking about it. Please, make the memory go away,” he groaned, pulling Zach’s lips to his.

“Better?” Zach asked after a long moment.

“Mm-hmm.”

“Why did you stop?”

“Stop what?”

“Experimenting.”

“Oh. Um. I kinda ended up getting with one of their girlfriends. We dated for like six months.”

“Really? You stud.”

“Yeah. She gave great head – well, actually, _before tonight_ , I thought she gave great head. I’ve since been enlightened.”

“You’re welcome.”

“And in case you’re going to ask, since then it’s just been random hookups – with girls – and one stressful, dysfunctional fling with a chick getting her PhD in Women’s Studies.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah. So, in conclusion, I’m finished experimenting.”

“And again, I ask – how the hell did I get so lucky?”

**

Chris was in the kitchen filling up a glass of water when Karl stepped into the apartment, shutting the door softly behind him. He jumped when he saw Chris standing by the sink, looking at him with a knowing grin.

“How’s Zoe?” Chris asked cheekily.

“Whatever,” grumbled Karl.

“So I guess you went to her place last night?”

It was Karl’s turn to fix him with a knowing look. “Yeah? Want to talk about who you took home last night?” he asked, gesturing toward the bedroom.

Chris blushed. “How did you-“

“Because I have eyes, Pine. Give me a little credit. You looked like you wanted to eat him alive last night. Plus, I know all about your experimental phase freshman year, remember?”

“Oh yeah,” he said, wincing at the memory of how Karl had made that particular discovery.

“He still in there?” Karl asked, nodding toward the bedroom.

Chris nodded.

“I’m just stopping in to grab a couple things, then I’ll make myself scarce.”

“Thanks, man” Chris said, avoiding his eyes.

“Chris.” The low earnest tone of Karl’s voice made him look up to meet his friend’s eye. “Zach’s a cool guy.” He paused, flustered for a moment. “You, uh…you think you got a real thing going with him, or what?”

Chris glanced longingly down the hall to the closed door of his bedroom, then back to Karl as a small smile played about his lips. “I guess…I hope so.”

 

Yeah, he thought, as he snuck quietly back into his bedroom to find Zach still sleeping, sprawled across his bed, shirtless and tangled in his sheets. He could get used to that, so yeah, he fucking hoped so.


	3. Chapter 3

“You’ve got to be out of your fucking mind if you think I’m getting on that thing.”

“Oh come on, Chris, a little trust here.”

“Z, it doesn’t even have _brakes_.”

“So? I’ve got skills. Now come on, hop on, we’re going on an adventure.”

“Adventure, my ass,” Chris grumbled, but he took a deep breath and hopped up onto Zach’s handlebars, clinging to them so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

“Chris?”

“Uh huh,” he answered, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Relax.” Zach pushed off from the curb, biking easily down the street.

“Ow!” Chris yelped as Zach hit a pothole. “Fucker, a little respect for my nuts, please?”

“Sorry. I think the last time they repaved these streets was like 1992.”

“Seriously,” Chris muttered, but he let himself relax a little more as Zach picked up speed. He actually started enjoying himself at one point, with only momentary bouts of panic whenever Zach swerved to avoid a passing SUV, usually taking a hand off the handlebars to flip the driver off as he did so.

“Is that really necessary?” Chris asked, when Zach actually knocked on the window of a Hummer to make sure the driver would notice the middle finger aimed in his direction.

“Is it really necessary to drive a fucking Hummer into the city?” Zach asked, turning into an alley and glancing back to make sure the driver wasn’t about to mow them down. “Fucking gas-guzzling, ignorant suburban douchebags,” he said under his breath.

Chris laughed. “Tell me how you really feel, Z,” he said, tipping his head back and letting the wind rush through his hair.

Zach watched Chris’s face, his eyes squinted against the sun and the wind, laugh lines crinkling at the corners of his eyes. “I feel amazing.”

*

Zach locked his bike up outside the National Constitution Center and grabbed Chris by the hand.

“You’re taking me to learn about our nation’s history?” Chris asked, confused.

“No. Better,” said Zach, as he led Chris across a wide intersection toward the massive blue towers of the Ben Franklin Bridge. Chris’s mouth fell open a little as he saw that they were heading for a pedestrian walkway that ran along the side of the bridge.

“Zach...this is awesome!”

“I know. Come on, let’s go across!”

They looked down at the water as they walked, and Chris grabbed Zach’s hand as he felt the rumble of a train crossing the bridge beneath them. Zach laughed, and they paused at the railing to look back over the city skyline.

“I love it up here, it’s so beautiful,” Zach said. “I love looking out at the city. You’ve never been up here?” he asked.

“No, and I’m glad.”

“Why?”

“Because that way you could take me here and show me something new. I’m glad you’re the first person I came here with, Zach.”

Zach pulled Chris into his arms and kissed him, pulling back to look into his bright blue eyes and say, “Fuck the city. I’ve got the best view right here.”

Chris blushed and turned back to the rail and Zach wrapped his arms around his waist, resting his chin on his shoulder. A chilly breeze blew up from the river and they shivered a little.

“Wish it was summer,” Zach said into Chris’s hair. “You like camping?”

“Hell yeah.”

“I’ll take you camping in the Pine Barrens this summer. And we’ll go down the shore, of course.”

“Of course. And you’ll take me to your hippie drum circles…”

Zach was quiet, but Chris could feel him smiling.

“I guessed right, didn’t I? You do have hippie drum circles.”

“Well, we couldn’t really call ourselves hippies if we didn’t, now could we?”

“S’pose not.”

“But we’ll only go to the drum circle for a little while. Then we’ll sneak off into the woods and make sweet, sweet love in the moonlight.”

“God, Zach,” Chris moaned softly.

“I know.”

Chris felt a flood of warmth through his body as they talked about the summer, Zach’s sun-drenched certainty that they’d be together then, that they weren’t going anywhere. He ignored the nagging feeling in his gut that made an appearance whenever he thought about his own future, the idea of leaving school, finding a job, finding his place in life, and wondering whether Zach would factor into those decisions. But that was all too far away to even think about, he decided, shaking himself out of his head. He’d get to it when he needed to, he’d go see the career counselor, and do what everyone was supposed to do. He would do that, he thought, leaning back into Zach’s embrace. Just…not yet.

*

“I’m starving!” Chris announced, after they’d made their way off the bridge and back to Zach’s bike. “Let’s go grab some food.”

“Okay. Want to head over to South Street?”

Chris wrinkled his nose. South Street brought back memories of gaggles of Penn freshmen giggling in sex shops and trying to get into margarita bars with laughable fake IDs. “Not really.”

“Come on, there’s a great falafel place over there. And a used bookstore. And I think the farmer’s market might still be open and I promised Summer I’d pick up some okra-“

“Jesus, when you put it that way it sounds like your idea of heaven,” Chris said, laughing as he gave in. “Alright, let’s go.”

*

Chris hopped off the handlebars outside the falafel place, but he was immediately distracted by the delicious scent of meat and onions coming from across the street. He gripped Zach by the sleeve, tugging it like a giddy child. “Oooh, look! Cheesesteaks!”

“Ew, Chris, please tell me you don’t eat that shit.”

“What?! Of _course_ I eat cheesesteaks, and they are not shit! How can you even live in Philadelphia and not like cheesesteaks?”

“Easily,” Zach scoffed.

“How long have you been a vegetarian?” Chris asked him.

“Mmm, about six years?” Zach guessed.

“Right!” Chris pointed a finger at him. “So you remember what meat tastes like, right? Don’t you remember how delicious it is? All juicy and meaty and oh _god_ I’m going over there right now, you enjoy your falafel,” he said, letting go of Zach’s arm and heading for Jim’s.

He heard Zach’s footsteps behind him.

“What? You’re coming with?”

“Well, you sounded like you were about to have an orgasm just thinking about a cheesesteak, so I feel like I have to see what happens when you actually eat one.”

The line was relatively short and Chris’s order was simple. “Whiz wit’,” he told the cook, who was slopping a massive pile of fried onions to the side.

Chris laughed at the look of utter revulsion on Zach’s face. “What is it now?”

“Cheeze whiz? Ew, Chris, that shit is so processed you might as well be eating a melted action figure or something.”

“If a melted action figure tasted like this, I would,” Chris joked back, as he got his cheesesteak and covered it with a generous squirt of ketchup. They sat down at a small table and Chris slid half the cheesesteak to the side of the plate and looked at Zach expectantly.

“What?”

“Eat it.”

“What?! Hell no.”

“Come on, share with me. Expand your boundaries. Live a little.”

“Die a little, more like,” Zach grumbled.

“I ate fucking quinoa for you, the least you can do is consume some processed cheese and greasy meat for me.”

Zach stared at the half of the cheesesteak for a moment longer before heaving a sigh and picking it up, his lip still curled in disgust. He held it gingerly and took a tiny bite off the end, as Chris watched intently, making sure that he’d gotten a good combination of meat, cheese, and onion. Zach chewed, swallowed, gave the sandwich another suspicious look, and took a bigger bite.

Chris’s face broke into a grin. “You like it!”

Zach grinned back at him as a drop of grease dripped down his chin. It wasn’t the greatest thing he’d ever tasted, but it did have something on quinoa, and it made Chris so fucking happy every time he took a bite that he was surprised to find himself holding the last nub of bun before he realized it.

“Oh my god,” he groaned, after he’d finished the final bite. “Please don’t tell anyone I ate that. Fuck, please don’t remind _me_ that I ate that.”

“It was delicious, right?”

“I plead the fifth.”

“Fine, don’t admit it. I know the truth. Next stop – corndogs.”

“Ugh. Let’s get out of here. I need some farmers’ market therapy.”

*

Zach did his best to combat his cheesesteak guilt by investing heavily in fresh apples, okra, and zucchini at the farmers’ market, before Chris hopped back onto the handlebars for the trek back to West Philly. When they got back to 4609, darkness had fallen and Zach had effectively shut down all of the reasons Chris gave for needing to return to campus. Summer and Harvest were setting up the projector in the living room, and they flopped onto the couch, ready for a lazy evening.

“What do you guys want to watch,” Harvest asked, looking over their motley collection of DVDs. “ _The Sex Life of Belgians_? _Transiberian_?”

“Foreign erotic art-house cinema or indie movies,” Zach whispered to Chris. “Those are about the only choices in this house.”

Chris breathed a sigh of relief when they agreed on an indie movie for the evening, and snuggled in next to Zach as the movie began.

They’d only been watching for about fifteen minutes when he noticed Zach squirming next to him and wiping his forehead on his sleeve. “You okay, Z?” Chris whispered in the darkness.

“Yeah, just…my stomach hurts a little. Ugh.”

“You want some Tums or something?” Chris asked.

“I don’t know, I want…ugh, fuck,” Zach said, and he jumped off the couch and pounded up the stairs. They heard the bathroom door open, followed by the unmistakable sound of retching.

“Oh shit,” said Chris. He looked at Summer guiltily. “Um, he may have eaten half a cheesesteak today.”

“Chris! That is disgusting! How could you do that to him?!”

“I didn’t force it down his throat!” Chris said defensively. “I should probably go check on him,” he added, pulling himself off the couch. He found Zach hunched over the toilet, breathing hard with the exertion of his body’s attempt to expel every greasy molecule of meat and fake cheese from his body.

“Zach?” Chris said softly.

“Chris, get out of here, I really don’t want you to see this.”

“I’m sorry,” Chris said, stepping closer and rubbing a hand soothingly over his back. “I feel really bad, let me take care of you.”

Zach squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “Oh god, I feel like shit.”

“You gonna throw up again?”

“I don’t think there’s anything left to throw up.”

“Come on, let’s get you into bed, okay?”

He helped Zach up and they made their way to his bedroom. Chris made sure there was a trashcan next to the futon and tucked the blankets up to his chin, before bringing him a glass of water and climbing in beside him.

“You don’t have to stay, Chris. I feel really disgusting right now.”

“I don’t care,” Chris said. “C’mere.” He pulled Zach into his arms, kissed his clammy forehead, and muttered another apology into his hair before they drifted off to sleep.

***

Chris opened the door without knocking and stepped inside, followed by Karl and Zoe. “Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!” Chris called happily, and a few voices called back to them as they made their way to the kitchen. They found Zach, Rachel, and Summer deep in the midst of food prep, or at least, deep in the midst of a heated conversation about the consistency of the macaroni and cheese.

“I fucking told you soy cheese wouldn’t melt right,” Zach was saying, when he looked up and caught Chris’s eye. “Hey, baby!” he exclaimed, holding his wooden spoon up out of the way to give Chris a hug and a peck on the lips. “Will you please tell these hippies that the idea of vegan macaroni and cheese is an abomination?”

Chris curled his lip. “He’s right. Gotta go with Cheese Whiz, all the way.”

“Ugh,” said Zach, “no. You know what, it doesn’t matter, because I just remembered that I’m never eating cheese ever, ever again.” He looked back at Chris. “What’d you bring?”

Chris pulled some items out of a paper shopping bag. “I brought organic, fair-trade, shade-grown coffee, which I promptly intend to ruin with this nasty processed pumpkin spice creamer,” he said cheerfully. “Look at this thing,” he said, holding up the creamer. “It’s white and liquid and says ‘no dairy’ – what the fuck is it then?”

Zach was giving him a look. “If you really have to ask, Christopher,” he murmured, waggling his eyebrows.

“Ew, Zach, you’re disgusting.”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying! With this processed shit, you never know. _Anything_ could be in it!”

“Great. New topic. Where’s the tofurkey, speaking of abominations?”

They heard a commotion at the front door. “Speaking of abominations, Cho’s here!” Zach exclaimed, as Harvest, Cho, and a few other stragglers made their way inside, their arms loaded with paper bags full of wine and liquor.

“The party has ARRIVED!” yelled Cho,

He stopped when he saw Chris, and broke into a grin, then to Chris’s surprise wrapped him in a tight, somewhat stinky hug. “Chris, man, how’ve you been? I hear you’ve been taking care of my boy Zach, here,” he said with a wink, prompting both Zach and Chris to blush deeply.

“Cho, can I talk to you for a sec,” Chris asked, pulling him lightly by the arm into the laundry room. Cho followed him, confused and a little concerned.

“What’s up?”

“I just, I wanted to say thank you. Zach told me you’re kinda the reason we…got together, and, yeah.” He rubbed a hand over his neck, not exactly sure what else to say. “Just, thanks. I think I’m happier than I’ve, like, ever been.”

Cho beamed at him and slapped him on the shoulder. “You’re welcome, man.” He turned to walk away but stopped and stepped back. “Is this the part where I’m supposed to tell you not to break my friend’s heart or I’ll kick your ass or something?”

“I don’t really think that’s necessary,” Chris said, somewhat nervously. All Asian stereotypes aside, he was pretty sure Cho actually did know kung fu.

“K, well, it better not be. Seriously though, I’m so happy for you guys. Cherish each other,” he added, putting his hands together and giving a small bow and a wink.

“Dork,” Chris muttered playfully at him as they made their way back out to the kitchen.

  
Thanksgiving at 4609 proved to be a resounding success. Chris had previously warned Karl about the lack of meat, so he’d brought his own turkey hoagie from Wawa and happily munched away. Chris, meanwhile, tried valiantly to enjoy the tofurkey, failed, and successfully ate half the bowl of mashed potatoes instead. Conversation flowed easily, as did the drinks, and Zach was halfway through his second personal bottle of red wine when he leaned close to Chris during dessert and whispered, “Fuck me tonight?” Chris choked on his bite of unprocessed pumpkin pie and looked at him in surprise as Zach squeezed his thigh. Chris’s eyes darted toward the stairs, as if to ask “now?” but Zach shook his head slightly and whispered, “Later.” Chris was already hard under the table, and throughout the rest of dessert he tried to remember to be thankful for friends and laughter and pleasant conversation, but really he just wanted everyone to get the fuck out so he could go upstairs and thank Zach so hard that neither of them could get out of bed for a week.

Finally, people started moving, clearing plates from the table and rubbing their bellies contentedly. To Chris’s dismay, Karl headed into the kitchen for another cup of coffee, but Chris headed him off. “Guess you guys are gonna head back to campus now, huh?”

“Oh, well, I was thinking of having some of that fair-grown coffee you were talking about…”

“Heh, well, how about I just bring some of that back to the apartment later, and we can have it then! How about that?”

Karl scowled. “You trying to get rid of me, Pine?”

“Um, no, it’s just that-“ he glanced desperately over to where Zach was leaning over to dump his leftovers into the compost bin and let his eyes linger on Zach’s ass.

Karl followed his gaze and rolled his eyes. “Oh Christ. I should have known.”

“Oh whatever, like you’re not about to go home and give thanks for some fine ass, too.”

Karl stared at him. “That’s a very disrespectful way to talk about my girlfriend.”

Chris snorted. “Give me a break. It’s _Zoe_.”

Zoe wandered up to them. “What’s me? Hey Karl, let’s get out of here. Are you gonna take me home and give thanks for this fine ass, or what?” she said, smacking her butt with a wink. Chris didn’t even try to stifle his laughter as Karl turned on his heel to follow Zoe out of the house. As soon as they were gone, Chris grabbed Zach by his belt loops and started dragging him out of the kitchen.

“Hey!” Zach said, laughing. “Just let me finish cleaning a few things first, okay?” Chris wrapped his arms around Zach’s shoulders and pulled him close, sliding a hand down to cup his ass and biting at his earlobe.

“Ew, get a fucking room,” Harvest said from the doorway. “I’ll finish the dishes if you promise to take…this…away from any food preparation areas.”

Chris smirked a little and Zach shook his head but he was grinning and then he was the one pulling Chris out of the kitchen and toward the stairs. Behind them they heard Summer bitching at Harvest for “ruining the show”, and then they were running up the stairs and Zach was pulling Chris into his room and slamming the door on a very disgruntled Noah.

They fell onto the futon in a tangle of limbs, desperate. Zach laughed as Chris tried to take off all of his clothes at the same time, but then he was shoving the half-empty tube of lube into Chris’s hand and tearing frantically into the box of condoms that he’d purchased for the occasion. He was on his knees with his pants halfway down when Chris slipped the first finger in and Zach gave up and collapsed onto all fours, his mouth open with the shocking pleasure of it. Chris pushed Zach’s t-shirt up, scraping teeth across his lower back as he added a second finger, twisting and thrusting, biting his lip as a drop of pre-come slid down his aching dick.

They’d gotten this far before, they’d had their fingers in each other, one, two, once Chris had even slipped a third in before Zach had come with a cry that had him blushing in front of his roommates for a week. But they were always too eager and had never tried to hold off long enough to go all the way. Zach bucked back on him, a shudder running through his body, and the way he groaned Chris’s name told him he’d better hurry if this time was going to be any different. Chris tore the condom wrapper open with his teeth and slid it on, still working his fingers in Zach, sliding them against his sensitive entrance, grinning at the high pitched whimpers that Zach would never admit to later. Finally, he pulled his fingers out, only to replace them with his cock, fuck waiting, fuck delayed gratification, he pushed in quickly and stopped breathing as the sensation hit him, hot and tight.

Chris was shaking with the intensity, so hard Zach could feel it through his body, and he thought then that this was one of those moments, one of those things that he would never forget and could never relive. Chris thrusting into him, Chris’s hands sweaty on his hips and across his chest and this would be over too soon, now Chris was the one whimpering and gasping. Chris’s nails scraped across his chest and teeth clamped down on his shoulder blade as he felt Chris tense behind him, thrust once more, and Zach was coming, spurting across the bed without his dick ever being touched and he was pretty sure the whole thing had lasted about five minutes and oh god, this was the best fucking Thanksgiving of his life.

**

Chris opened his eyes, yawned, and stretched across the cool sheets of the futon. He glanced over toward Zach and grinned. Zach was curled on his side, facing away from Chris, and in the weak early morning light Chris could see the vivid outline of the bite mark he’d left on Zach’s shoulder the night before. He scooted over and propped himself on an elbow, slinging his arm around Zach’s chest. Zach woke up to the swipe of Chris’s tongue across his shoulder blade.

“Morning,” Chris whispered.

“Mmmm.” Zach smiled, keeping his eyes closed, as he pressed back against Chris.

“How ‘bout last night?” Chris asked. He couldn’t keep the giddy grin off his face, so he buried it in Zach’s hair.

“Mmm-hmm.”

Chris bit his lip, hesitated, then leaned in to kiss Zach wetly on the neck, sliding a hand down over his hip, brushing fingers lightly across his ass. “How do you feel?” he asked softly, sliding the tip of a finger down the cleft of Zach’s ass, rubbing across his hole, just a little, just to see. Zach gasped and turned to capture Chris’s mouth in a sloppy kiss, stilling his hips so Chris knew to keep touching him, that tantalizing finger, and Chris wiggled it a little and slid the tip in and Zach moaned into his mouth.

“Fuck, fuck,” Zach said, dropping his head onto the pillow, his eyes rolling back in his head a little as Chris pressed all the way in. Chris was already reaching under the pillow for another condom, Zach’s encouragement sending the blood rushing through him, heated and urgent again.

“Want you, Zach,” he whispered. “Can’t keep my hands off of you,” he said, sliding the condom on, and then “want to be inside you again, so fucking bad,” and he slid in as Zach threaded their fingers together, tight against his chest as Chris fucked into him. They were lying on their sides and it was only a little awkward but it was lazy and slick and Chris got a rhythm going, and Zach gripped himself loosely because he didn’t want it to end.

Chris let it build this time, slow and steady, as long as he could until he felt himself tipping over the edge, then he whispered Zach’s name and wrapped a leg over his waist and thrust in hard and came, his cock pulsing forever as he pressed his damp forehead against Zach’s neck. Zach was coming too, quietly this time and Chris kept his arm clasped tightly across Zach’s chest until they could breathe again.

“Hey, where are you going?” Zach mumbled fifteen minutes later, as Chris finally detached himself and slid toward the edge of the futon.

“Bathroom. Hopefully I’ll be able to scandalize at least one of your roommates on the way,” Chris said with a grin as he headed into the hall in nothing but his black boxer-briefs.

“Hurry back,” Zach called after him. “I want to cuddle!”

  
“So, what are we doing today?” Zach asked a little while later, mid-cuddle.

“Is it too soon to-“

“Yes, Chris. You’re insatiable,” he said, laughing. “I do need some recovery time, here.”

“Okaaay,” Chris said. “We can do it again later, though, right?”

“We’d better,” Zach said, growling seductively and lunging for a kiss.

Chris kissed back, then pulled away to stretch and run a hand over his face. “I actually do have to get some work done today, Zach.”

“No.” Zach pouted.

“Yes, I do. I have to write a paper on Keats.” Chris ran his thumb along Zach’s poochy lower lip. “Don’t you have something to paint?”

“I need a nude model.”

“Zach, you do abstracts.”

“I need variety.”

“I’m sure Summer’s available.” Zach made a face and Chris laughed. “I won’t stay away long, Z, I promise.”

Zach touched their foreheads together. “Soup kitchen tomorrow, right?”

“Right.”

“K. I suppose I can live without you for one day.”

“Yeah? Well, I can’t. I’ll be gone six hours, max.” Chris grinned and winked, and let Zach roll him over and kiss him for a good long while before he remembered about Keats.

***

When Chris turned his phone on after class, he had four missed calls from Zach. He hit 1 on the speed dial as his feet turned automatically toward 46th Street.

“Everything okay?” he asked when Zach picked up.

“Everything is fucking amazing, Chris.”

“Tell me!”

“You coming over?”

“Of course I’m coming over, you’re using your ‘I’m dying to give Chris a blowjob’ voice.” He could practically hear Zach jumping up and down with excitement about something, and he couldn’t help but grin into the phone.

“How close are you?”

“I’m still five blocks away, Zach, just tell me already!”

“Okay, okay.” He heard Zach take a breath. “Two of my paintings were accepted into a gallery show at F.U.E.L. House!”

“Holy shit, Zach!!” Chris did a little jump of excitement in the middle of the sidewalk, then glanced around quickly to make sure no one had seen that. “That’s awesome! Congratulations!”

“Oh my god, I’m totally freaking out. What am I going to wear?”

Chris smiled and walked as he let Zach babble in his ear about the gallery space and the opening event and newspaper reviews, and he could see Zach on the porch, still talking excitedly into the phone when he arrived. “Zach. Zach!” Chris laughed as he tried to get a word in edgewise. “Um, you can hang up now. Hi,” he said as Zach spotted him from the porch, bounded down the steps and enveloped Chris in a massive hug.

“Hey, famous artist,” he said, ruffling Zach’s hair.

“Hey, famous artist’s boyfriend,” Zach said back, smiling. “Now, what were you saying about my blowjob voice?”

“Fuck that,” Chris said. “You’re the one that deserves a blowjob. Or wait, did you already spontaneously orgasm when you got the call?”

Zach blushed and punched him in the arm. “Come upstairs.”

Chris followed Zach upstairs and collapsed on his futon as Zach opened up his laptop. “So, will you come to the opening with me?”

“Of course!”

“Good, ‘cause you don’t have a choice.”

“Yeah,” Chris drawled, “Art’s great and all but you’re really just in this for the chance to show off your hot boyfriend.”

“You think you’re kidding,” Zach said, dropping onto the futon next to Chris to show him the email.

“Zachary Quinto, up-and-coming local artist,” Chris read out loud. “Ooooh, that sounds so professional!”

“I know, right! Here, you have to help me write my bio.”

“Okay. How about, ‘When he’s not busy personifying the hipster stereotype, Mr. Quinto enjoys walks in the park with his dog Noah…”

Zach kicked him absently as he started typing. “I was thinking more along the lines of ‘Quinto describes his work as a collaboration between the natural and the cultural, framing uncertainty and unpredictability attempting to break free from societally established boundaries’.”

Chris raised an eyebrow at him. “I have no idea what you just said, but if I’d known you could come up with shit like that, I’d have had you writing my papers all semester. Maybe you could get a job writing pretentious artist statements!”

“Shut up,” Zach said, typing frantically.

“I’m serious!” He propped himself up on his elbows to watch Zach type, biting his lip in concentration. “When’s the opening thingy?”

“Um…it’s next Thursday. December 16, I think.”

“Okay.” Chris rolled over and pulled his day-planner out of his bag. He was writing ZACH’S SHOW!!!!! in block letters when he glanced at the following day’s entry.

“Fuck, Zach, I’ve got my Russian final Friday morning.”

“So?”

“So, I can’t go out the night before a final! And I’m really far behind in that class.”

Zach stopped typing to stare at him. “You can’t be serious, Chris. You know how much this means to me.”

“I know, Zach, I know, shit. Maybe I can stop by for a little while or something…”

“Since when do you need to study, anyway? I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

“Zach, I really need to do well on that final to bring my grade up. _You’re_ the reason I’m doing so terribly in that class, by the way.”

“Oh, right. Friday morning class.” Zach remembered how many times he’d convinced Chris to stay curled in his arms after a late night at Fuego instead of leaving for class.

“Yeah.”

“Anyway, so what?” Zach pressed. “It’s just one class, if you get a C or something is that really going to kill you?”

Chris looked at him in disbelief. “A _C_?! Yes! Yes, Zach, that would kill me! I haven’t been working my fucking ass off for four years to get a fucking C!”

“Whoa, calm down. You need to lighten up a little, seriously. Look at the big picture. What’s more important, one class, or your boyfriend getting _two_ paintings in a fucking gallery show?!”

“That’s not fair, Zach. Don’t act like I don’t care when you know I do. You know how amazing I think you are, and how happy I am that your dream is coming true. That doesn’t mean I can just ignore all of my other priorities.”

“Yeah, well, it seems to me that you’ve got your priorities a little mixed up,” Zach said, turning away from him.

“I can go with you another night, Zach! And I know you’ll have other openings to go to! I can’t help that the timing sucks.”

“So you’re choosing schoolwork over me.”

“Don’t say it like that! This is something I’ve put four years of effort into. I’ve known you for what, three months?”

Zach raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “So you’d rather put your efforts into grades and academic approval instead of the passion and people in your life?”

“Argh!” Chris ran his hands through his hair in frustration. “Zach, I’m sorry, but some of us want to be successful and get jobs and go to grad school and fucking make something of ourselves.”

Zach stopped moving and looked at him, completely still. “The fuck does that mean, Chris?”

“Nothing, I’m sorry, forget it.”

“Right.” Zach slammed his laptop shut and got up to leave the room.

“Zach, don’t. I’m sorry okay?”

“Whatever. Go study and make something of yourself. I have to go dick around now and waste my life away.”

“That is not what I meant!” Chris said angrily, but he was talking to the door that Zach had slammed shut. Chris held his head in his hands, mildly impressed that Zach had managed to walk out on him while he was sitting in Zach’s room. After a long moment, he got up and grabbed his bag and made his way out of the house without seeing another soul.

**

“Karl, do you have a black shirt?” Chris called from his bedroom.

“Just a sec,” he heard Karl call back, and a minute later Karl stepped in holding three black button-down shirts. “Here. Where are you going, I thought you had a final tomorrow.”

“I’m going to Zach’s gallery show.”

“Did you study already?”

“No. Yes. I tried to study. I haven’t been able to concentrate since Zach and I had that fight. If I tried to study right now, I’d just be staring at the textbook thinking about what an asshole I am, so I might as well just go.”

“Alright,” Karl said with a shrug. “But, you’re not an asshole, Chris.”

“Whatever.”

“You know Zach lives on an alternate plane of existence, where grades and resumes and parental approval don’t matter.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“So you just have to wait for him to understand that those things _are_ important to you.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t fucking feel like waiting that long. It doesn’t matter, I’m going, and everything will be fine. I’m sure I’ll do fine on the test, I’ll recite Russian poetry to myself on the way there.”

“Okay, well, do what you need to do. And tell Zach I said congrats.”

  
Chris studied his notes in the cab on the way to Old City, tucking the notebook into his back pocket when he arrived at F.U.E.L. House. He stepped inside, feeling exposed and vulnerable in the brightly lit space, and made his way to the bar, keeping his eyes open for Zach. Of course, he hadn’t actually told Zach he was coming, which meant he might not even be here yet. Chris found himself wondering guiltily if he’d had trouble deciding what to wear. People slowly trickled in as Chris made his way through the gallery, sipping his beer and taking the time to actually look at each painting, both of which helped calm his pounding heart. He caught a glimpse of Rachel and Summer as they came in, but didn’t go over to say hi, and his eyes kept returning to the door as he waited for Zach to arrive.

He was in the far corner of the space when he finally saw Zach walk in. He stood still, watching as Zach made his way into the gallery, greeting people with hugs, and beaming when the owner shook his hand and began introducing him to some of the other artists. Someone handed him a glass of white wine, and as he took a sip, his eyes traveled across the room until he caught Chris’s gaze. Chris saw him stop mid-sip, stare as if he couldn’t quite be sure what he was seeing, and then he was shrugging off the gallery owner’s attempt at conversation and moving deliberately across the room. He didn’t stop until he was close enough to throw his arms around Chris and pull him close, threading a hand into the back of his hair as Chris pressed his chin into Zach’s shoulder and hugged him back.

“You’re here,” Zach said, amazement and gratitude in his voice.

“Yeah, I’m here,” Chris said, squeezing him tighter.

“Missed you,” Zach whispered against his temple.

“Missed you, too.”

“I wanted to call you and ask you what I should wear.”

Chris smiled. “You look great.”

Zach slid a hand down Chris’s back, chuckling when his fingers touched the notebook sticking out of his pocket. “Russian?”

“Da.”

Zach pulled back to kiss him softly, his tongue slipping between Chris’s lips. Chris melted into him, thinking that he’d be perfectly content to stand there kissing Zach all night, until Summer’s voice pulled them out of their little world.

“Yo, Quinto,” she said loudly, slapping him on the shoulder. “As much as I love performance art, aren’t you supposed to be showing us some paintings?”

“Fuck you, Summer,” Zach murmured against Chris’s jaw. Chris pushed him gently away.

“Go ahead, Z. Do your thing. Work the room.”

Zach looked at him desperately, as though he were afraid to leave Chris’s side, so Chris pulled him close one more time and pressed his lips to Zach’s ear. “I’m not going anywhere.”

**

Chris spent the last days of the semester lounging on Zach’s futon, library books spread around him as he wrote his last two papers, while Zach painted frantically, inspired by his recent success. They’d established a comfortable routine – Chris would write a few sentences, watch Zach paint, check out his ass, and wriggle around on the mattress until Zach noticed. Zach would turn away from his canvas, falling to all fours over Chris, peppering him with kisses and paint splatters until Chris squeaked at him to watch out for the laptop, and they would start all over again.

**

On December 21st, Chris turned in his last paper, and they celebrated with takeout, eating on Zach’s futon and trying not to think about the fact that Chris would be gone for three weeks over break.

“So, I got something for you,” Chris said when they were finished eating. He pulled something out of his bag, wrapped in tissue paper. “I, uh, didn’t have time to wrap it.” He handed it to Zach and watched eagerly as he tore into the paper. Chris had spent an hour in J. Crew looking for the perfect shirt for Zach, and he’d settled on a black button-down with dark blue and white stripes – vertical stripes, which he knew would be a change for Zach. He just knew that Zach would look amazing in it and couldn’t wait for him to try it on. Instead, Zach sat looking at the shirt for a long moment, flashed him a weak smile and a muttered thanks, and set the shirt to the side.

“Try it on!”

“Oh. Um. Maybe later.”

“Come on, Zach, I want to see you in it!” Zach fidgeted uncomfortably and refused to meet Chris’s eyes. “What’s wrong? You don’t like it? It’s the vertical stripes, isn’t it?”

“It’s fine.”

“But…?”

“But…Chris, you know I’m not really into…consumerism.”

Chris rolled his eyes. “Oh Jesus, Zach, heaven forbid you own a piece of clothing that hasn’t been worn by someone else.”

“Do you have a problem with the way I dress?”

“What? No, of course not!”

“I just…I mean, look at this, Chris, this isn’t me. What made you think I would like this?”

“Well, I got it for you, for one thing,” Chris said, hurt that that didn’t seem to be enough. “And you’d look damn good in it too, if you would deign to try it on.” He didn’t care that he was letting his frustration show through in his tone.

“Well, I’m sorry if I don’t feel like dressing up like a Penn frat boy just because it makes you feel more comfortable.”

“Zach, are you kidding me? I have no desire whatsoever to date a Penn frat boy. I just thought you might like a new shirt, I didn’t know you were going to go applying social theory to my choice of gifts.”

“I know my lifestyle is different than yours,” Zach said, his tone calm and patronizing and absolutely infuriating.

“Oh, Jesus, Zach, I have no issue with your lifestyle, I just wanted to get you a fucking shirt, excuse me for living!” Chris was raising his voice and he felt his face flush hot with anger that he didn’t feel like holding back.

Zach ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, Chris, I just…sometimes I feel like you’re asking me to change who I am.

“What are you talking about? When have I ever done that?”

“Well, like with the cheesesteak…”

“Are you fucking serious? Zach, you ate that cheesesteak all by yourself, I didn’t point a gun at your head.”

“I know, but I did that because I like you, Chris, and I can see what’s happening.” Zach looked away, his words sounding like something he’d been practicing in his head, that he’d been repeating to himself. “I like you so much that I’m going to end up compromising my values for you, and I just – I can’t let myself do that.”

Now it was Chris’s turn to drop his voice to a cold, icy tone. “What the fuck are you saying, Zach?”

“I’m saying…maybe you should go.”

“Are you serious? I’m leaving for California tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Chris ran his hands through his hair, so upset he felt like he was going to be sick. He grabbed his bag and turned toward the door, then turned back, giving in to his anger. “You think I’m asking you to change, Zach? Well, guess what, I got a B minus in Russian. And I know that means jack-shit to you, but I had a fucking four-oh before this, before….you. And here’s the thing, I wasn’t even going to say anything about it, even though it made me feel like I’d failed myself. But whatever, it didn’t matter, because I made you happy and it was worth it. And now you’re going to do this over a shirt, a fucking shirt, Zach?”

Zach had his arms crossed and was half turned away from Chris. Chris could see the line of his jaw, clenched tight as he stared out the window.

“Right. Okay, I’m leaving. Have fun with your fucking principles, Zach.”

Chris made it half way up the block before he leaned over to dry heave into the gutter. Tears were springing up in his eyes, but he held them back, letting the anger wash over him. He let himself think about how hypocritical Zach was being, about how unexpected and unfair it was of Zach to throw this on him now, right now, when he was leaving and they couldn’t even talk about it face to face for three whole weeks. He couldn’t help but wonder how long Zach had been thinking these thoughts in the back of his mind, thinking that Chris wanted him to be someone else, falling prey to the misguided and stupid belief that their two worlds couldn’t mix.

He spent the evening throwing things violently into his suitcase, until Karl peeked in his door to ask if he was alright. He could tell right away from Chris’s face that he wasn’t.

“What happened?”

“Fuck if I know. I think Zach and I just…fucking…broke up or something,” he said, his voice cracking.

“Oh Chris.”

“Sorry, Karl, can you just…get out of here, I’m sorry, I can’t deal with this right now.” And he remembered why Karl was his friend when he closed the door without another word and left Chris alone with his tears.

**

Chris pushed Zach as far from his mind as he could during the three weeks of break, which, to be honest, wasn’t very far. Every time he wondered if he should call, his stomach clenched in dread. Finally, he told himself that if Zach wanted to think he was an asshole who was incompatible with his life, he’d be just that, and he didn’t think about calling again. On New Year’s Eve, he drank himself into a stupor and passed out before midnight, as planned. He woke up feeling disgusting, but it wasn’t until he checked his phone to see that there were no voicemails or texts from Zach that he threw up over the balcony of his cousin’s beach house.

**

Chris stared out the window of the plane as it descended into Philadelphia, hating the skyline and the stupid river and everything about the stupid city. He took a few deep breaths and shook himself out of it and wondered what was going to happen next. A cab ride, the familiar sight of his apartment building, and he was trying desperately not to think about anything beyond a cold beer and a long nap.

“Hey Karl,” he said, after he’d dragged his suitcase in through the apartment door.

“Oh, hey Chris. How was your break?”

Chris was quiet for a moment. “Fucking sucked. Yours?”

“Alright.” Karl paused. “You, uh, seen Zach yet?”

“How could I have seen Zach yet, I just got off the fucking plane.” Chris snapped. Karl winced a little. “Sorry man,” he added, rubbing both hands over his face. “I haven’t talked to him all break. I don’t even know if I want to see him. Everything’s so fucked up.” He knew he sounded wrecked, but didn’t even try to hide it. “Want to grab a drink in a bit?” he asked. Karl nodded, and Chris grabbed his bag and headed for his bedroom.

When he opened the door to his room, his heart nearly seized in shock at the sight of Zach sitting across his bed. He was wearing the J. Crew button-down, and his endless legs were stretched out in front of him across the blanket, clad in a pair of dark jeans that he didn’t recognize.

“Hey,” Zach said softly.

“Oh fuck,” Chris said helplessly, dropping his bag on the floor and throwing himself onto the bed, into Zach’s arms, kissing him frantically on his lips and cheeks and anywhere he could reach. He felt Zach’s strong arms wrap around him, could sense Zach’s smile though he was too close to see it, and he buried his face in Zach’s neck and squeezed back tears.

He wasn’t sure whether to apologize or beg so he did both, murmuring “Zach, I’m so sorry, please, please give me another chance.”

Zach cut him off with a long kiss, then pulled away, panting, his hands threaded through Chris’s hair, making their eyes meet. “I’m the one who needs to apologize, Chris. I…fuck, I’m an idiot and an asshole and I don’t deserve your fucking beautiful eyes to be looking at me like that, and I am so, so sorry.” Chris pushed forward to kiss him again, then they wrapped their arms around each other, shaking.

“I don’t want you to compromise your principles for me, Zach,” Chris said softly. “I fucking love your principles.”

“I love you,” Zach whispered back, tensing around Chris as if waiting for his reaction.

“Fuck, I love you, too,” Chris choked out.

“I’m sorry I made you get a B,” Zach said, and Chris couldn’t help but laugh a little and hug him even tighter.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Chris said, pulling a back a little, plucking at the top button of Zach’s shirt. His eyes were damp and he couldn’t quite bring himself to look up at Zach’s face yet, so he pressed his palm against his chest and felt Zach’s heart beating hard and fast.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d be happy to see me,” Zach said softly, and Chris brought his eyes up to meet Zach’s, glistening with unshed tears.

“I wasn’t either,” Chris said, then he shook his head and said “What the fuck am I saying, of course I knew. I knew, all I wanted was to see you and …” his voice trailed off and he smiled. “This shirt isn’t hurting things either. You look fucking amazing, Zach.”

“I know,” Zach said, and they leaned in to kiss, lips soft and then tongues hard against each other, sucking and tangling together possessively, desperate for reassurance. Chris had Zach’s shirt unbuttoned and he was sliding his hands up over his chest when they heard a knock on the door.

“Everything all right in there?” Karl asked.

Chris leaned back on the bed with a grin. “Thank you, Karl!” he yelled at the door. “I owe you a drink, mate!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Karl grumbled, but they could hear him smiling. Karl was a sucker for happy endings.

“Hey, Karl,” Chris called.

“What?”

“You, uh, might want to put on your headphones for a while,” he said, laughing as Zach rolled his eyes.

“Oh, ew,” they heard Karl mutter before his footsteps retreated down the hall.

“Now, where were we?” Chris said, looking back at Zach. He ran a hand down his chest and leaned in to suck at Zach’s neck. He slid down further, sprawling across the bed to rub his face into Zach’s taut stomach as Zach threaded a hand in his hair.

“Nice jeans,” Chris mumbled, mouthing at Zach’s crotch. “Where’d you get ‘em.”

“I, uh…I went to the Gap,” Zach said, sheepishly.

Chris looked up at him in surprise. “Serious?”

“Yeah. You like ‘em?”

“They look amazing on you, Z.” He ran a hand appreciatively up Zach’s thigh, pressed his palm against the line of Zach’s cock. “But they’d look even better on my floor.”

They pulled apart, scrambling out of their jeans. Chris knelt on the bed to pull his hoodie and t-shirt off, and Zach moved up behind him, pressing his bare chest around Chris’s back, his cock brushing against Chris’s ass and he pulled him close and kissed at his neck and shoulder.

Chris reached a hand around the back of Zach’s neck and pulled them both down onto the bed together, pressing his ass up as Zach’s cock, slick already, fit neatly into the cleft of his ass. Zach moaned and slid instinctively against him and Chris smiled. He knew that Zach loved this, and he did too, the feel of Zach’s body heavy on top of him as he whispered dirty things into Chris’s ear, Zach’s breath coming faster until the final hot splash of come across his back. But this time Chris wanted more, wanted Zach to be even closer, to have all of him. “Fuck me, Zach.” It came out as a whisper, so quiet that he thought maybe Zach hadn’t heard, and maybe he wouldn’t say it again, but Zach stilled against him.

“What?”

Chris swallowed, felt Zach trying not rut against him. “I want you in me, Zach, I want to feel you.”

“Are you sure?” Chris could tell by the serious tone of his voice how much Zach wanted it, how much he wanted to know that when Chris said yes, he meant it.

Chris turned his head, his mouth open, seeking Zach’s lips and tongue with his own, and Zach met him, kissed him hard until Chris came up for air saying “yes, Zach, yes, god yes.”

Zach scrambled off the bed and Chris watched him appreciatively as he fumbled in Chris’s drawer, the shirt hanging unbuttoned from his lanky frame, dark hair falling into even darker eyes, and Chris could have stared at him for hours, but Zach was back and hot against him and Chris closed his eyes as Zach’s familiar fingers slipped inside him.

“Guh, ungh, god, Zach,” Chris panted, his ass in the air and his face pressed into a pillow. Zach added a second finger, pumping into him faster, and the third finger stung a little until Zach hit him just right and he felt his cock twitch dangerously.

“Zach, come on,” Chris gasped, his eyes widening in surprise as Zach pulled his fingers out and flipped him onto his back, leaning down to nip at his jaw and neck and fist a hand in his hair.

“I love you,” he said, pulling back so Chris could look into his eyes and see that he meant it.

“I love you, too, Zach. God, I love you. And I would really love for you to fuck me right now.”

Zach shifted between his legs, his face serious as he rolled the condom on, and Chris felt the head of his cock press against his entrance. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and moaned as Zach pushed into him, felt Zach’s hand on his cheek as he filled him, impossibly deep. Zach’s thumb stroked across his cheek bone. “Open your eyes, Chris.” Zach swallowed as he felt Chris clench around his cock and he fought to stay still. “Look at how hot I look in my new J. Crew shirt,” he joked. Chris laughed and opened his eyes and Zach almost came right then from the way Chris looked at him, his eyes a brilliant blue against his flushed skin. Zach felt for a second that what he’d said before was true, that he didn’t deserve that look, not from Chris, and at the same time that he only ever wanted Chris to look at him like that, that he would do anything for it.

Chris reached for him, touching his chest and tugging at his open shirt, and urging him to move, and he did, slowly at first. Then faster because he wanted to make Chris feel good, and he thrust in _just so_ and Chris clutched at him as sparks of pleasure shot through his core. He looked into Zach’s eyes, and he felt Zach inside him, in his chest and his belly and in the fist Zach was wrapping around his cock. Zach licked at Chris’s lips, his movements uneven now, frantic, slamming into Chris, fist flying over his length. He wanted them to come together, could see that Chris was biting his lip, holding back. Zach nodded and choked out “yeah, Chris, come” and his cock pulsed as Chris shot his load across his chest. He looked down curiously as Chris’s hands pushed his shirt over his shoulders just before he collapsed onto Chris’s sticky front.

“Wouldn’t want you to ruin your shirt,” Chris whispered, and he wrapped his arms around Zach and held him close.

*

“So, when did you figure out what an idiot you were being?” Chris asked casually as they lay snuggled into the blankets a while later, having made the unspoken decision not to leave the bed until it became absolutely necessary.

“About three days after you left.”

“Roommates help you?”

“No, I figured it out all on my own, thank you very much,” he said indignantly. “ _Then_ they told me. Repeatedly. Oh, and Summer said that if she had the chance to date, how did she put it, ‘an intellectual California boy with an ass that won’t quit,’ that she’d eat and barf up cheesesteaks on a regular basis if that’s what it took. So, you know, that’s saying something.”

“That’s saying something disgusting.”

“Yeah. Just don’t let Summer get you alone, okay? I’m kind of afraid of what might happen.”

“So…why didn’t you call me?”

Zach shrugged. “Figured this would be more dramatic.”

Chris looked at him in disbelief. “Drama queen,” he said with a half-smile. “I was fucking sick over you.”

“Me too,” Zach admitted. “I spent New Years passed out drunk on the floor.”

Chris nodded. “Same here. So, I guess, in a sense, we rang in the New Year together.”

Pain flashed across Zach’s face. “God, Chris, I’m so sorry.”

“I am, too. Can we do that thing now, where we stop talking and make out again?”

Zach nodded as he rolled Chris over onto his back and pressed their lips together with a sigh of relief.

  


***

  


  
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	4. Chapter 4

  
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Zach checked his phone, picked his beer up off the bar, and resumed staring at the door. A crowd of hipster kids pushed their way into Fuego, followed by a couple of aging hippies, but no Chris. He pounded his beer, ordered another one, and was leaning on the bar trying to look nonchalant when Brendan tapped him on the shoulder and gestured toward the door.

“J. Crew’s here,” he said, and Zach was about to get indignant at the nickname when he turned to see Chris stumble in wearing a long-sleeved navy polo shirt and khakis.

“Zachy!” he said exuberantly, falling heavily against Zach’s side.

“Whoa, hey buddy, you alright there?”

“I’m fine,” Chris said, and Zach recoiled at the stale beer and vodka fumes wafting off of him. “Totally fine. Ge’ me a drink.”

Zach’s phone buzzed in his pocket, and he held Chris upright with one arm while he tugged it out of the pocket of his jeans. He looked at the screen, which informed him that he was getting a call from…Chris. He looked at Chris, then back at the phone, and answered. “Hello?”

“Zach?”

“Yeah?”

“Hey mate, it’s Karl. Is Chris with you?”

“Um.” He glanced at Chris who was swaying a little and working to keep his eyes open. “Physically, yes.”

Karl chuckled. “Thank god. He went stumbling out of here without his phone. I shouldn’t have let him leave, but he looked like he was going to get violent with anyone who tried to keep him away from you.” Zach raised an eyebrow and looked at Chris again. Chris grinned dopily back at him.

“It’s no problem, man. I’ve got him. Thanks for looking out.”

“Yeah. Thanks, Zach.”

Zach slid the phone back in his pocket and stood from his bar stool. He cupped Chris’s face in his hands. “Hey baby boy, let’s get you away from people.”

“Don’t demasculate me,” Chris slurred, poking him in the chest.

“I would never do that. Come on.” He slung Chris’s arm around his shoulders and half carried him out of the bar and down the steps into the chilly night air.

**

“Chris.”

“Mmmff.”

“Hey, babe. You gotta get up. You have class.”

“Fuck you,” Chris mumbled, turning onto his stomach and pulling a pillow over his head.

“Hey, that’s not nice. Come on, Chris, you’re gonna be pissed if you miss Literature for Pretentious Assholes, or whatever.”

“What days’it?”

“It’s Wednesday.”

Chris cracked an eye open and glared at Zach with it. “I don’t have class ‘til 1:00.”

“I know. It’s 12:15 and you’re at my house. And you reek of alcoholism. So come on. Get up and take a shower.”

“My head.”

“Here.” Zach handed him a glass of water. Chris scowled at it.

“What is this, some kind of homeopathic remedy?”

“It’s to take these, idiot,” Zach said, pressing two Advils into his hand. Chris swallowed them down and let his head drop back onto the pillow.

“I hate you.”

“Aww, that’s sweet. I love you, too. Now get your ass out of my bed, I don’t want to be responsible for you misinterpreting the theme of public memory in _War and Peace_.”

“That was last semester, dumbass,” Chris grumbled as he let Zach lift him to his feet and push him toward the door. “And anyway, how do you know about that?” He furrowed his brow as Zach pushed a towel into his hands.

“I read your paper. Now go.” He gave Chris a light shove out of the bedroom, and listened until he heard the shower.

*

“Zach, you don’t have to walk me to class, I’m going.”

“I’m not walking you to class. I’m walking with you. I enjoy your company. Most of the time.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It means this grumpy hungover thing you’ve got going leaves something to be desired. As does the shitfaced frat boy act you were so admirably pulling off last night.”

Chris didn’t respond, staring at his feet as they walked.

“Hey.” Zach reached for his hand and Chris let him take it. “You gonna tell me what was going on yesterday, or what?”

Chris shrugged.

“Chris, it’s me. Come on. What’s up?”

“I had an appointment with the career counselor,” Chris mumbled.

“Ah.”

“Yeah.”

“What’d he say?”

“ _She_ said… I should have gotten a summer internship, I should sign up for on-campus recruiting, I _could_ apply to grad school but only if that’s really what I want and not just to avoid the real world, blahdy blahdy blah, I have no fucking idea, I’m screwed, and I want to kill myself.”

“Drama queen.”

Chris looked up at Zach with a grin. “Wanna be my sugar daddy?”

“Wanna live on oatmeal and beans?”

Chris made a face.

“Well, what do you _want_ to do?”

Chris gave him a disbelieving look. “Why do you think I drank myself into a stupor last night? I don’t _know_ what I want, that’s the problem! It’s not as easy as, ‘I want to be a painter, so I’m going to paint, la la la, fuck the man’.”

“I’m an artist, Chris. Not a painter.”

“What the fuck ever, you know what I mean.”

“You like writing. Why don’t you write a book?”

“Uh huh. You try telling that to a Penn career counselor.”

“Why don’t you look around for jobs at, like, theater companies or something.”

“Oh yeah? You don’t happen to know, say, fifty other people with actual experience in the arts applying for the same thing?”

“Fine, Chris. I’m just trying to help, but if you’re going to be all pessimistic about it…”

They came to a stop outside Fisher-Bennett Hall. Chris leaned against a low wall and slid his hands around Zach’s waist. “I’m sorry. I just, I hate thinking about it, and I know I have to, but I don’t _want_ to. I want to think about _you_. And make out with you, and fuck you-“

“Chris, stop it,” Zach said, blushing.

“Stop it?”

“Stop now, resume later.” He kissed Chris on the cheek. “Go to class.”

“Fine. I’m coming over later, though.”

“You’d better.”

***

“Chris, get your ass out here. You gotta come see this, someone made a hipster snowman.”

“Of course they did.”

“Come on, Noah wants to romp around with you in the snow.”

“Oh, _Noah_ does? I’m sure. Look, just let me finish up a few things, and then I’ll meet you out there, okay? I promise.”

Zach was shivering by the time Chris showed up, and he wanted to be pissed, but it was partly his fault for only wearing a light hoodie under his peacoat, and then Chris was there wrapping his strong, warm arms around Zach, and he couldn’t quite bring himself to care anymore about the snow soaking into his jeans.

“Miss me?” Chris asked, warm puffs of breath hitting Zach’s cheek between kisses.

“Hell yes. What were you doing anyway?”

“Future stuff,” Chris said, and he snaked his leg around to trip Zach into a snow drift, falling down with him. He pressed his warm lips to Zach’s mouth, eased it open with his tongue, because this was what they did now, when they talked about the future. They kissed, so they couldn’t talk, and they threw themselves into the present and tried not to think about anything beyond their hands on each others’ skin.

Chris threaded his fingers into Zach’s hair, damp and cold against the back of his neck where it stuck out from under his hat. Zach shivered and pulled Chris onto him until he completely covered Zach’s body.

“You’re cold.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Zach said, his teeth chattering through his smile.

“I have an idea of how to warm you up.” Chris scrambled to his feet and offered Zach a hand.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yep. Hot chocolate. Blankets.”

“Oh. I was thinking more along the lines of nakedness and physical exertion.”

“Well, yeah. That much was implied.”

***

“Oh, I forgot to tell you. There’s a free poetry reading at the Green Line Cafe on Thursday night. You wanna go?”

Chris paused in cutting up the mushrooms and looked at Zach with an eyebrow raised. “Zach, sometimes you are so adorable I can barely stand it.”

“What?”

“Thursday is St. Patrick’s Day,” Chris said patiently.

“So?”

“SO?”

“Oh god, Chris, don’t tell me you’re one of those.”

“Do you even know me?”

“Right. Of course you are.”

“You’re coming out with me.”

“Hell no. I still haven’t gotten the smell of frat off me from last time I went out with you.”

“Oh shush. Come on, Zach. It’s my senior year. You’re the most important person in my life….”

“You need someone to watch you so you don’t seriously injure or embarrass yourself…”

Chris broke into a grin. “So you’ll come?”

“The things I do for you,” Zach said, but he smiled as he turned back to the stove.

“And you have to wear green.”

“Cut the fucking mushrooms.”

**

“Zach, where are you?” Chris yelled into the phone.

“I’m finishing something, I’ll be there soon.”

“What?!”

“I’ll be there soon!” Zach yelled back.

“Okaaay. But hurry up. Karl wants you to get here before I get too drunk.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

**

Zach wrinkled his nose at the sight of the crowded Irish bar, packed with drunken college students spilling green beer on each others’ green shirts. He took a deep breath and stepped inside, pushing his way toward the bar, his eyes scanning the crowd for Chris, Karl, Zoe – basically anyone who wasn’t whooping and wearing a backwards white baseball cap. Finally, he spotted Chris, talking animatedly to someone Zach didn’t recognize, a guy who Zach was quick to note was tan, built, and obviously attractive despite the ridiculous foam Guinness hat that he was sporting. Zach ran a hand through his hair self-consciously as he approached them.

The guy was listening intently to Chris, smiling at him, touching him on the arm as he said something, and looking like…well, looking like Zach had better get the hell over there before he got any ideas. A possessive flash surged through Zach, and he came up behind Chris to wrap an arm around his chest.

“Hey _bro_ ,” he said huskily into Chris’s ear.

He watched the blush creep up Chris’s cheek as he subtly pulled away. “Zach, hey, you made it! Holy shit,” he said, as he caught sight of the bright green streaks shooting through Zach’s dark hair. Zach could see in his eyes that he wanted to say more, but Chris bit his lip and stopped himself, regaining his composure quickly.

“Zach, this is Eric. Eric, Zach.”

“Hi Zach,” Eric said as they shook hands. “You go to Penn?”

“Uh, no.” He didn’t elaborate.

“Right. Well, nice to meet you, and Chris, I’ll see you around. Email me your resume and I’ll see what I can do, okay?”

“Sure thing, thanks Eric.”

Chris turned to Zach as Eric disappeared into the crowd. “Holy shit, Zach, you look fucking hot as hell.”

Zach grinned. “I had a feeling you wanted to say something like that.”

Chris ran his fingers through Zach’s hair, pulling up a strand of green. “Damn. When did you do this?”

“Today. Summer helped me. You like it? I thought maybe it looked a little like snot.”

“That’s attractive. But seriously, this is ridiculously, unreasonably hot. And are you…are you wearing green lipstick?”

Zach nodded and leaned forward to press a green kiss to Chris’s cheek.

“God. Never change. Never leave my side.”

“You either. So who was that guy? Eric or whatever.”

“Just a guy I used to know. He was a senior when I was a freshman. He’s a consultant now, said he can probably hook me up with a couple interviews.”

“Wait, wait. A senior when you were a freshman? Oh my god, did you make out with him? You did, didn’t you?!”

Chris’s blush was all the answer Zach needed. Zach threw his head back and laughed. “Oh my god. This is priceless.” He glanced around the room, but didn’t see Eric. “I’m actually impressed though. He was kinda hot. Oh my god, did you suck his dick? Tell me.”

“No.”

“No you didn’t suck his dick, or no you won’t tell me?”

“I need another beer.”

**

“So wait,” Zach said, as they navigated into an unoccupied corner, holding massive cups of green beer over their heads. “You want to be a consultant now?”

“I don’t know. I mean, no, not really, but…the career counselor suggested it, and apparently you don’t need any specific background, just good critical thinking and analytical skills. You can make a lot of money…”

Zach curled his lip.

“Look, Zach, I don’t really want to get into it right now, okay? Can we just have a good time tonight and talk about this later?”

Zach grabbed Chris by a belt loop and pulled him close. “I think we can manage that.”

“Good.” Chris took a sip of his beer.

“So how many times did you guys make out?”

“Oh my god,” Chris spluttered, “you have a one-track mind. Why do you care so much anyway?”

“I don’t know. It’s kinda hot to think of geeky little freshman Chris making out with built fratty jocks….”

“You’re letting your daddy kink show, Z. And anyway, how do you know I was a geek?”

Zach raised an eyebrow at him.

“Fine. Your turn. Tell me about someone you hooked up with before me.”

“Chris, please. I was a virgin before I met you.”

Chris rolled his eyes. “Shut up and drink your beer.”

***

The phone rang as Chris gave himself one last, annoyed look in the mirror, and headed out the door.

“Hi Zach,” Chris said.

“Chris,” Zach said sleepily. “Why the fuck aren’t you in my bed?”

Chris smiled and shivered a little. God, he loved this man. “I’m on my way to an interview, actually.”

“What? Really?”

He could tell Zach was sitting up a little in the bed, pictured the sleepy, confused look on his face, and was tempted to scrap the whole thing and get the hell back over there. “Yeah, sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want you to see me looking like a corporate tool. Seriously, you’d cry if you saw me right now, Zach.”

“Shush, I’m sure you look amazing.”

“Fine, I’m a hot corporate tool, but still…”

“Chris…”

“Don’t start, Zach,” Chris sighed wearily. “I know. I don’t know what I’m doing and I don’t want this job, but it doesn’t matter because I’m not going to get it anyway. So don’t lose any sleep over it, okay? In fact, go back to sleep, and I’ll come over after the interview and fuck you wearing nothing but my suit jacket and tie.”

“Mmm, tempting, but in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not really into being fucked by The Man.”

“You’re hilarious. Fine, how ‘bout you fuck me, then, and live out all of your communist fantasies by coming all over my face.”

“I’m hard already just thinking about it.”

“Hold that thought, and I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay. Break a leg. Good luck or whatever they say. Show me the money.”

“I hate you.”

“Love you, too.”

**

“Hey, baby.”

Chris could hear his sleepy smile over the phone. “You still in bed, lazybutt?”

“Yep.” Chris pictured Zach stretching, sprawled across the futon, scratching lazily at his chest. “’m waiting for my boyfriend. Can you please tell him to stop sucking Wall Street’s dick and get his fucking sexy ass back here?”

“How about you get your sexy ass out of bed and come meet me in Rittenhouse Square?”

“Hmm, tempting, but no.”

“Come on, Zach, it’s a beautiful day, there are tons of people outside, it’s a glorious cross-section of humanity! Plus I want to put my tongue in your mouth. Come on. And bring a blanket.”

“What about the fucking?” Zach said, his voice going up in a little whine at the end.

“Later. I promise. Come on, do it for my sexy ass.”

He heard Zach grunt as he rolled out of bed. “Ugh, I do _everything_ for that ass,” Zach grumbled.

“See you in a few.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

**

Zach skidded to a brakeless stop in front of the bench that Chris was sitting on and grinned at him, waiting for approval.

“What are you, 13? Show-off.”

Zach waited.

“Alright, that was kinda hot,” Chris admitted, standing up. Zach set his bike down and gave Chris a once over. He reached forward to push the jacket off Chris’s shoulders, dropping it onto the bench. Chris stood tolerantly as Zach unbuttoned his professional blue shirt, loosened his tie, and slid his hands up the back of Chris’s undershirt as he pulled him in for a kiss.

“Mmmm, who’s my sexy professional?” he murmured, kissing Chris’s jaw.

“Not me,” Chris said distractedly, sliding his hands around Zach’s waist.

“How was the interview?”

“Fucking sucked. How the fuck am I supposed to know how many light bulbs there are in New York City? And what the fuck does that have to do with consulting, anyway?”

“What the fuck _is_ consulting, anyway?”

“Fuck if I know.”

“What did you say? For the answer about the light bulbs?”

“I don’t even remember. I think I may have quoted Edith Wharton.”

Zach winced. “Yikes.”

“I know. Whatever. Come on, let’s lie down on the grass and surreptitiously grope each other.”

They set the blanket down across the grass and flopped down on it. They alternated between making out and people-watching, and Chris had to convince Zach that yes, it would be obvious if he rubbed off against Chris’s leg right here in the middle of the lawn. Chris was sprawled across Zach’s lap in his debauched business attire, refusing Zach’s request to recite improvisational love poetry, when they heard a voice call from across the grass.

“Zachary Quinto? No fucking way!”

Zach looked over and his face split into a grin. He stood excitedly and yanked Chris up by the hand. “Annie! Holy shit!”

“Hey girl!”

Chris watched with amusement as Zach jogged across the lawn to embrace his friend. Annie was about a foot shorter than Zach, but solidly built, and for a minute it looked like she might actually tackle him to the ground in her enthusiasm.

When she let him go, Zach tugged her over by the wrist.

“Chris, this Annie, my best friend from Sarah Lawrence. At least, I thought she was my friend, until she ran off to New York City and stopped calling me.”

“You don’t call me!” Annie exclaimed, punching him in the shoulder. Chris winced.

“Whatever, bitch,” Zach said, his eyes twinkling. “Anyway, Annie, this is Chris. My boyfriend,” he said, drawing out the word and winking.

“Nice to meet you,” Chris said, shaking her hand.

“Shit, Zach, no wonder you don’t call,” Annie said.

“Right?” Zach slid an arm around Chris’s waist, looking like he was going to burst from pride. “So what the fuck are you doing in Philly, anyway?”

Now it was Annie’s turn to blush. “Oh, I, uh…I kinda met a guy. Online. We’ve been kind of seeing each other for a little while and he’s visiting some friends here, so…” She gestured across the grass to a group of people sitting in a circle.

“Look at you blushing, oh my god, you loooooove him!” Zach cooed.

“Fuck you, Quinto.”

“You have an interesting relationship with your friends, Zach, did anyone ever tell you that?” Chris asked with a grin.

“Fuck you, Pine.” Chris laughed. “So Annie, are you gonna introduce me to this guy, or what?”

“Yeah, yeah. Wait here, I’ll go get him.”

Zach nudged Chris with his elbow as they watched her walk across the grass. “So, you said you wanted to meet someone I hooked up with.” He nodded toward Annie.

“What?! You had sex with her?”

“No, no, we just made out every once in a while. When we were drunk. Until she got a girlfriend.”

“She’s bi?”

“I guess? She calls herself pansexual.”

Chris raised his eyebrows. “Pansexual? Is that a thing?”

“Sure it is.”

“Are _you_ pansexual?”

“What do you think?”

“I think you’re terrified of the vageen.”

“You are correct.”

“Thank god.”

“Says the straight boy.”

“Yeah, that’s me. Totally straight. Totally not thinking about you drilling me in the ass right now.”

“Jesus, Chris,” Zach choked, turning to give Chris a fake hug so he could adjust himself as Annie came walking back toward them. Her boyfriend was tall and thin, with a friendly, crooked smile, and he was twirling a pink hula hoop expertly around one arm.

“Jay, this is Quinto. The one I was telling you about. Zach, this is Jay.”

“Hey, man,” Jay said, handing Zach the hula hoop and raising an eyebrow expectantly. Chris raised an eyebrow too, when he noticed the gleam of excitement in Zach’s eye. Zach was excited about a pink hula hoop. This had to be interesting.

Chris took a step back and Zach blushed a little as he took the hoop, stepped into it, and started it spinning around his hips. He fell into an easy rhythm, talking to Annie and Jay as he kept the hoop going without a second thought. Which was all well and good, and yeah, a little hot, until Zach caught his eye, grinned, and raised his arms up over his head. His shirt rode up, exposing the indent of his hipbones, his thin waist, the dark trail of hair leading down past his navel. Chris flushed a little, his mouth suddenly dry. Then Zach did something, a thrust of his pelvis and a shimmy of his hips that sent the hula hoop spiraling up, around his stomach to his chest, and Chris wasn’t sure whether he wanted to watch forever or jump him and tear his clothes off right there in the middle of the green.

“Jesus, Zach, is there a reason you never told me about this particular talent?” Chris said, gaping.

“I had to ease you into my awesomeness,” Zach said, ducking his head so the hula hoop spun out around one arm to his wrist.

“He used to do this on the quad at school,” Annie said. “Used to gather quite a crowd.”

“I’d imagine,” Chris said, glancing around to where a small crowd was forming right now, watching as Zach smoothly transferred the hula hoop to his other arm, then down around his neck. He gestured for Chris to come closer, grabbed him by the wrist and turned him so Chris’s back was tight against his front. He gripped Chris by the waist, getting him used to the rhythm as they moved in tandem to keep the hula hoop moving around them.

“Fuck,” Chris murmured, caught up in the movement, Zach’s pelvis pressed against his ass.

“Did Zach ever tell you that he had dreads for a semester?” Annie asked.

Chris smiled. “Hell yeah he did. What was my reaction when you showed me that picture, Zach?”

Zach chuckled in his ear. “Spontaneous orgasm, I believe,” he told Annie.

Chris reached an arm up and back, pressing his fingers into Zach’s hair. “I fucking love this hair,” he said. Zach’s hips stuttered and the hula hoop fell to their feet, and Zach wrapped both arms around Chris’s chest and kissed him on the cheek as they heard scattered applause from the small crowd of observers.

“What do you want to do now?” Zach murmured seductively.

Chris turned to look at him. “I want you to take me in those bushes over there so I can help you with the substantial problem that’s currently poking me in the ass.”

“Mmmm,” Zach hummed thoughtfully. “Tempting. Second choice?”

“Second choice?” Chris turned around and wrapped his arms around Zach’s shoulders so he could whisper in his hear. “Why don’t you take me home and fuck me senseless, you gorgeous bitch.”

“Your use of the word bitch offends my feminist sensibilities,” Zach said, his voice a low growl.

Chris scraped his teeth along the edge of Zach’s ear. “That’s why you have to _own it_.”

Zach straightened and took a step away, shaking the tingle of desire from his limbs. “Well, Annie, it was awesome to run into you, but I have to take Chris home and do unspeakable things to him for a while. Wanna get dinner?”

Annie laughed. “Sure, baby. Give me a call.” She winked at Chris. “Have fun. Don’t tire him out too much.”

Chris raised his hands. “I have no control over the situation,” he said, his eyes wide and innocent.

“Okay, you two can bond over my sexual prowess later,” Zach said, grabbing Chris by the wrist.

“Nice to meet you, Annie!” Chris yelled as Zach dragged him away.

***

“Okay, is this better?” Chris asked, slicing into the tempeh.

Summer looked over his shoulder. “Yeah, that’s better. Cut it like that.”

Rachel slid a glass of wine across the counter to him as he resumed cutting the tempeh into chunks. When he was finished, Summer showed him how to make the sauce. “Keep stirring it until it thickens. You want it really thick.”

“Yeah I do,” Chris said, winking.

“Then why are you with Quinto?” Harvest asked with a smirk, leaning against the doorway and taking a hit off a joint.

“Shut the fuck up, Harvest,” Chris said playfully, making grabby hands for the joint. Harvest handed it to him and he took a long pull.

“Chris! You’re not stirring!”

Chris rolled his eyes and let Summer take the wooden spoon from his hand and stir the pan. He shrugged and hopped up on the counter. “So when’s Zach getting back, anyway? Not that I’m not enjoying this quality time with you all.”

“He should be back in half an hour or so,” Rachel said, glancing at her watch. “So, Chris. What are you doing after graduation?” She tried to make it sound like an innocent question, but Chris saw Summer and Harvest watching him and he ran a hand over his eyes.

“Fuck, you guys, not you, too.”

“Come on, Chris, you have to have _some_ idea!”

“I don’t!”

“Are you staying in Philly, at least?”

“Argh, I don’t know! I don’t know. Believe me, Zach will know as soon as I do.”

“You’re our friend, too, Chris,” Summer said, and for once it wasn’t accompanied by a lewd comment.

“Thanks.” Chris tipped his head back against the cabinets with a light smack. “I just wish things could stay like this, you know? This-” he gestured to the kitchen, his friends, the joint, the pan of tempeh cooking on the stove, “-is perfect.”

The front door opened and Zach walked in, stooping down to pet Noah before striding toward the kitchen. “Oh my god, something smells delicious,” he said. He paused in the doorway. “Oooh, something looks delicious, too,” he said, grinning and looking at Chris. He walked over and Chris slid off the counter and into his arms. Chris rested his chin on Zach’s shoulder and smiled ruefully at the others, saying quietly, “Now it really is perfect.”

***

Chris shifted the bag of dirt on his shoulder as he attempted to open the door without dropping the cardboard box he was carrying. He was relieved when Zach saved him the trouble by opening it from the inside.

“Hey, you! What’s in the bag?”

“Dirt.”

“Dirt?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry, it’s organic. I thought I could get you guys started on your garden. Come on, let’s plant shit.”

Zach shrugged, took the cardboard box of plants and seeds out of Chris’s hands, and started for the back yard.

In the yard, Chris grabbed a trowel and started jamming it into the existing soil along the edge of the back fence as Zach looked on, amused. Zach glanced through the box of seeds and starter plants that Chris had picked up from somewhere, admiring his choices. When he looked up again, Chris had churned up half the row of soil and he was scowling as he thrust the spade violently back into the earth. Dirty streaks of sweat slid down his temples and his blue eyes flashed with…something.

“Hey, is everything okay, Chris?” Zach asked, standing up from the steps and walking toward him.

“Yeah,” Chris said, panting from the exertion. He stood up and wiped an arm across his forehead. “Everything’s fine. It’s fine. Grab that dirt for me?” Zach picked up the bag and started pouring the fresh dirt down the row, as Chris continued to dig. When they reached the end of the row, Chris stood, panting, and leaned back heavily against the fence, his eyes closed. Zach looked at him curiously, then dropped the bag of dirt and stepped closer.

“Hey,” he said softly, setting a hand gently on Chris’s waist. “What’s wrong?”

Chris opened his eyes, but he turned his head to the side, looking away from Zach.

“I got into grad school,” he said quietly. “Berkeley.”

Zach felt as though the air had been sucked from his lungs.

“I got a partial scholarship,” Chris continued, still not looking at him. “And they invited me to participate in a playwriting workshop over the summer.”

Zach found his breath again, slid a hand up to Chris’s jaw, to pull him forcefully until he was looking into Zach’s eyes. Zach ran his thumb across Chris’s cheekbone, leaving a streak of dirt beneath his eye. “You’re amazing.”

Chris swallowed, lowered his eyes.

“You are Chris, listen to me. You are fucking amazing.” Chris looked at him again, his eyes stormy, and Zach felt the twitch of his jaw beneath his palm as he fought to find the words he wanted to say to Zach.

“Zach…”

Zach covered Chris’s mouth with his and Chris kissed him back, hard, pouring everything into it, and their teeth clashed together but it didn’t matter. Zach’s hands were warm on his face and he clutched at the back of Zach’s shirt as Zach kept him pressed against the fence. Zach ground their hips together and Chris squirmed against him, hard and desperate. He let Zach plunder his mouth, sucking at his tongue, biting at his lower lip and he moaned, sliding his hands down to Zach’s ass.

Zach kissed away from his mouth, licking and sucking at Chris’s neck, salty and gritty under his tongue. Chris tipped his head back to let Zach scrape his teeth along his collarbone, and he moved his hands from Zach’s ass up into his hair. Zach felt the dirt on Chris’s hands against his scalp, and he rubbed his forehead against Chris’s sweaty neck and chest, relishing the smell of earth that he found there. He heard Chris say his name and he didn’t want to hear the rest, lifted his head to cut him off with a kiss, then slid his fingers into Chris’s waistband to pull him away from the fence, stepping backwards, tugging him down until they were on the ground. Chris straddled him, pressed him back into the grass. He leaned back on his heels and ground his palm into the bulge in his jeans, biting his lip as sweat slid down his temple.

“Fuck, Chris,” Zach said, bucking his hips in the air, groaning at the friction of his cock against the fabric. Chris moved his hand to Zach’s crotch, rubbed his hand hard over Zach’s fly as he leaned over, planting one hand on the ground beside Zach’s head.

“Yeah, Zach,” he panted, pressing his own erection into Zach’s thigh, sliding against him, and it felt so fucking good. Zach’s eyes were closed, his lips parted as he arched into Chris’s hand. “Ungh, fuck, Chris, fuck, don’t stop.” Chris didn’t even realize he had stopped, but he had both hands on the ground now as he rutted faster against Zach’s thigh, grunting with exertion and heat and the climax building in his groin. He slowed down, ground into Zach in long, hard strokes as he moved his hand over Zach’s cock again. Zach grabbed his wrist, held him there, bucked up against his palm until he shuddered. Chris slipped the tips of his fingers into Zach’s waistband so he could feel the hot slickness spilling into Zach’s boxers, and he groaned and came hard in his own pants, thrusting shortly against Zach’s leg until the last wave of pleasure swept through him and he collapsed onto Zach’s chest, drained.

They kissed lazily, tasting dirt on their tongues, their hands leaving trails of soil across their t-shirts and skin. Zach inhaled deeply, letting the scent of grass and sweat keep him in the moment. He could have stayed there forever, would have held Chris to him there on the ground until the sun went down, longer even, but eventually Chris sat up a little, sniffed at his shoulder, and wrinkled his nose.

“Shower?”

Zach nodded, took hold of Chris’s hand as they stood up together, and clung to him as they made their way upstairs. They stripped and dropped their dirty clothes on the floor and stepped into the shower.

Zach ran his hands up Chris's back, working up a lather with the soap. Dirty streaks slid down across his skin and Zach wiped them away. He rested his hands on Chris's shoulders and asked, "So are you planning to go?" Chris didn't say anything, didn't turn, and Zach pressed his thumbs into Chris neck, massaging him, then slid them down across his chest to hold him tightly. He kissed Chris on the temple. "You should go, Chris. You shouldn't let this opportunity go by." Chris turned in his arms, wrapped soapy hands in his hair and pulled him close for a long, hard kiss. Zach kissed him back with urgency, and Chris reached between them, curled his fist around Zach's half hard cock and jerked him fast, sucking on his tongue until he came with a grunt over Chris's stomach. They stood, breathing, as the water poured over them, washing them clean.

They didn't talk about Berkeley again for a week.


	5. Chapter 5

  
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](http://s6.photobucket.com/albums/y249/Drunkandinlove/LJ%20PICS/?action=view&current=roflbot-HMeb.jpg)   


“Let’s go camping this weekend.”

“Okaaay…”

“Let’s go down the shore!”

Zach raised an eyebrow at him. After the warm weekend, the temperature had dropped again, and they were sitting on the porch in hoodies, shivering a little as a chilly breeze blew through their ripped jeans, but neither of them wanted to give up and go inside. “Not exactly ideal beach weather,” Zach observed. Chris shivered, and Zach wrapped an arm around his shoulder, pulled him down so they were lying together on the couch.

“I want to do everything with you, Zach,” Chris said, his voice cracking. “Before I leave.”

“Shhh,” Zach said, pressing his lips into the soft fabric of Chris’s hoodie. Chris scooched into the couch, thought about the hours he’d spent here, reading, content to just be next to Zach. He hadn’t read a book in weeks. The knowledge of what was coming had weighed on him, before he’d even found out that he’d been accepted, and he’d been greedy with Zach’s time, throwing books aside in favor of keeping his hands on his boyfriend as much as was humanly possible. His chest clenched and he murmured “Fuck” and buried his face in Zach’s chest as another cool breeze blew across the porch.

"Hands above the waist on communal property," Summer called out as she tromped up the steps to the porch, followed by Rachel and a pretty blonde carrying a guitar case.

“Hey guys,” Rachel said. “Sorry to interrupt.”

“You should be,” Zach said, sitting up with a wink.

Summer flopped onto Zach’s lap and said “I want in.”

"Summer, if you're trying to grind up on my boner, I'm sorry to disappoint you.”

"Aww, why, Chris doesn't get you going anymore?

"Oh, Chris still gets me going. Chris got me going three times already today, which is part of the problem."

"Oh god, TMI, Zach," Rachel said, covering her ears. Summer just smirked and punched Chris in the shoulder, saying "Way to go, man."

"Guys, this is Tigerlily, Tigerlily, please excuse my roommates, they have no internal filters. Oh look, at least Zach has pants on today, so that's something."

Zach made a face at her. "Shut up, Rachel, I wear pants!"

"I tried to stop him," Chris murmured to Summer, who laughed and slid off of Zach's lap and onto Chris's.

"Summer, quit it," Zach said, standing and yanking Summer off of Chris before turning to shake Tigerlily's hand. "I'm Zach, nice to meet you...Tigerlily?"

"You can call me Lily. Tigerlily's just the name I use when I'm playing-" she gestured to the guitar, "-or when I'm hitting on hot chicks in the park," she added, winking at Rachel.

Zach grinned. "I like you already."

Rachel blushed. "So you guys, I was thinking maybe Tigerlily could play here in a couple weeks. She wants to get her name out there and do some house concerts and I thought 4609 would be a great place for her to play."

"Oh hell yeah," Zach said enthusiastically. "That would be amazing. What do you think Chris?"

Chris stretched and pulled himself up off the couch. "Why're you asking me, dude, I don't live here."

"Yeah you do," Summer and Rachel said at the same time.

"Sorry Lily, this is my loser boyfriend Chris."

Chris shook her hand. "I'm not a loser, by the way," he said, clarifying. “I just go to Penn.”

***

Zach lifted a branch out of the way and gestured for Chris to step under it, onto a faint path that led into a patch of woods along the Schuylkill River. Zach followed, grabbing hold of Chris’s hand and taking a long pull off the forty that he was holding. Chris threaded their fingers together as he took a drink, and they walked slowly toward the river, careful to avoid the various pieces of rusted out junk that lay haphazardly on the path.

“Where the fuck are we?” Chris asked, as he stepped carefully around a moldy mattress.

“It’s basically a squatter camp,” Zach told him. “At least in the summer.” He gestured into the woods, where Chris could make out a few tents through the trees. “Cho likes it out here. He says it frees him from the desire to acquire possessions.”

“Wow. Kinda makes you seem like a materialistic douche in comparison, huh?”

Zach made a face. “Yeah, sorry, but this isn’t exactly my idea of living in harmony with nature,” he said, kicking at a stack of tires as they walked past.

When they got closer to the tents, Zach called out Cho’s name. Chris took another swig of his drink as they listened for a response, and they walked a little farther into the woods. When Zach called out again, he was rewarded by a muffled “The fuck do you want?” coming from a tent a few yards away. They walked up to it and Zach gave the side of the tent a light kick.

“Hey, lazy ass.”

Cho stuck his head out the door of the tent. “You’re a dead man, Quinto. Hi, Chris.”

“Hey.”

Zach squatted down to peek inside the tent. “Hey Harvest.”

“Fuck you.”

Zach chuckled. “Sorry to, uh, interrupt. I was just showing Chris around and I thought we’d stop by and say hey. Haven’t seen you around 4609 in a while. I wanted to let you know we’re having a house concert next Friday. Although, I suppose Harvest’s been keeping you up to date.”

“Yeah. I’ll be there. You taking Chris to the drums?”

“Yep.”

“Sweet. You boys have a good time.”

“You, too. See you later, Cho. Harvest, you make sure he shows you a good time.”

“Fuck you.”

Zach laughed again and threw an arm around Chris as they walked away.

“What are the drums?” Chris asked.

“You’ll see.”

Ten minutes later, they stepped out of the woods and Zach pointed to the two massive abandoned oil drums in front of them. Chris guessed that the cylindrical structures were about five stories high, and he really hoped Zach wasn’t leading them to the dubious looking metal staircases that wound around their sides.

“Come on,” Zach said eagerly, offering Chris a hand as they stepped through the rusted machinery surrounding the drums. Chris swayed a little and squinted at the almost empty bottle in his hand.

“Please tell me we aren’t going up there,” he said, trepidation creeping into his voice.

“Of course we are.”

“Of course.”

Zach drained the last of his forty and set it on the ground.

“Oh my god, did you just litter?” Chris asked in disbelief.

“No! I’ll pick it up before we leave!”

“Oh, okay. Good plan,” Chris said, raising an eyebrow at the veritable dumping ground that surrounded them. He rolled his eyes with affection as he finished his beer and set the bottle down beside Zach’s. They pulled themselves up onto the stairs and Chris followed Zach up, clinging to the rail as he went.

“I am trusting you so fucking much right now,” Chris said. “If I die…”

“You’re not gonna die,” Zach said, turning around and giving him a smile, and fuck, Chris would follow that anywhere. He swallowed down the flood of emotion that surged through him, and continued the climb.

At the top, Zach stretched his arms out over his head and looked up at the sky. Chris whistled appreciatively.

“Nice view, right?” Zach asked.

“Hell yes,” Chris said, not taking his eyes off Zach. “Oh, what, you meant the city?” He grinned. “I guess that’s okay, too,” he said, looking out over the woods and the river and the gleaming skyscrapers beyond. He was dizzy with the height and the booze and the exhilaration that he still felt when Zach turned that smile on him, as he did now, and he had to sit down, leaning back with his palms on the warm metal. Zach sat down next to him, slid close and kissed him without a word, a hand on his jaw to pull him closer, deepening the kiss until nothing existed but the rough press of their tongues. Chris fell into the kiss, forgot about everything but Zach, and when he finally opened his eyes and pulled away, he was surprised all over again at the expanse of blue sky surrounding them. He was breathing hard as he met Zach’s eyes, and he leaned in again, wanting Zach’s mouth back on his, wanting this soaring feeling in his stomach to last forever. Zach’s lips left Chris’s and traveled over his skin, down to his neck, and Chris tipped his head back and back until he gave up and lay down all the way across the sun-warmed metal. Zach didn’t seem to notice, just kept tracing Chris’s throat with his tongue, pulling Chris’s skin between his lips and teeth, finally laying down beside him and wrapping an arm around his waist. Chris had closed his eyes but he opened them again to see Zach’s face looking into his, lust darkening his eyes, or was that love? They had been the same thing for so long now, it seemed, and Chris’s chest ached with the things that he wouldn’t let himself think about, not now, not until he absolutely had to.

Chris blinked slowly and reached up with both hands to pull Zach’s head down, pulling Zach’s open mouth to his and kissing him forever. He kept his hands in Zach’s hair, let him pull away for tiny breaths before crushing their mouths together again, sweet, lazy kisses turning into desperate, needy ones. He felt Zach’s hand on his hip, sliding up into the bottom of his loose shorts, skimming lightly across his thigh before moving around to cup his ass. Chris bit at Zach’s earlobe in approval and shifted so that Zach could get better access, squeezing and rubbing as he held Chris close and kissed him deeply. He let his finger brush across Chris’s hole, causing Chris to gasp, then pressed the tip of his pinky inside. Chris bucked against him and moaned, “Zach, fuck, I…” Zach pulled back a fraction, cocked an eyebrow at him, and Chris moaned again and said “Yes, Zach, god, yes.”

Zach grinned, pushed himself up abruptly on one elbow, and made sure Chris was watching as he slid the length of his middle finger into his mouth. Chris smiled mischievously and raised two fingers, nodded as Zach’s eyelids fluttered and he slid his index finger into his mouth as well. As soon as he pulled his fingers out, Chris slammed their lips together again, pushed his tongue deep into Zach’s mouth and moaned as Zach pressed both fingers inside of him in one aching stroke. Chris pulled away to press his face into Zach’s neck, swallowing back any pain so he could focus on how good Zach’s fingers felt sliding along his sensitive opening, how Zach twisted inside him, sending sparks of pleasure up his spine. He rolled onto his side and slid his knee between Zach’s legs to give him a better angle, wrapping an arm around him as he rocked back against his fingers. “Fuck, Zach, feels so fucking good, how do you _do_ that, Jesus,” and other incoherent words of pleasure murmured against Zach’s skin. He wanted more and he knew Zach did, too, knew it from the way Zach was grinding his erection against Chris’s belly in time with the thrust of his fingers, and the way Zach’s breath was coming harder and faster against his cheek. “Zach, please, fuck me, come on, I need you so much, god, I want you.”

Zach pulled back and his hand stilled, his fingers still deep inside Chris. He pressed their sweaty foreheads together, and they were still for a moment except for the heaving of their chests. “Want you too, Chris,” he said, smoothing over Chris’s hair and cheek with his other hand. “So fucking bad.” He bit his lip. “I didn’t bring anything…”

Chris closed his eyes and mashed his mouth blindly against Zach’s, pressing close-mouthed kisses to his lips, over and over. “Please, Zach,” he said up against Zach’s mouth, “it’s okay.” He pulled back a little, holding Zach’s face in his hands, pleading, “It’s okay, right?”

Zach was breathless as he answered, nodding, “It’s okay, yeah, fuck,” and he eased his fingers out of Chris and pushed gently at his shoulder, turning him onto his stomach. He bit at Chris’s earlobe, kissed him one more time on the mouth, then moved behind him, sliding his shorts down over his hips. Then his hands were on Chris’s ass, squeezing at him, sliding a thumb down his crack and spreading his cheeks open, gasping out loud at the sight, at the anticipation. Chris felt Zach’s warm breath ghost across his entrance, followed by the rough feel of Zach’s tongue, and he squirmed in pleasure as Zach soaked his hole with spit. Then cool air as Zach sat up to grapple with his own fly. Zach shoved his shorts down just enough, and bit back a moan as he finally freed his throbbing cock from its confines. He slicked his palm with saliva and slid it over his dick, smeared pre-come around the head with his thumb, and pressed against Chris’s entrance, hissing in a breath at the sensation.

“Fuck,” he breathed, closing his eyes, running his hands up under Chris’s t-shirt, pressing his fingertips into skin as he pressed his cock into Chris. Chris bit his lip at the pull of skin as Zach breached him, a sharp bite of pain instead of the slick slide of lube, but he focused on the feel of Zach filling him, pushed back to encourage him. He dragged the sleeve of his t-shirt across his forehead to stop the sweat from dripping in his eyes, and grunted in surprise as Zach thrust the rest of the way into him, giving his hips a squeeze as he paused to take a breath.

“Chris…” he breathed, shuddering with emotion and sensation, Chris wrapped around him body and soul, those blue eyes turning to look back at him, dark with love and trust. He had to look down at the sound of Chris’s voice, reassuring him, wanting him, “Yeah, Zach. It feels so good, I swear, please…”

Zach bit his lip and pulled out a little. Without lube, the friction was intense and raw, and he felt it in his chest, echoing through him, and he thrust in hard.

“God, FUCK,” Chris yelled, but he pushed back just as hard and sucked in a ragged breath. Zach wrapped an arm around his chest, held him close, and gave in.

“Please don’t go, Chris,” he whispered, his words coming in a rush against Chris’s skin as he slammed into him, “please don’t leave me, god, I don’t know-“ Another thrust and a gasp and Chris felt the beginnings of his climax tingling in his groin. “I don’t know what I’ll do without you.”

Chris turned his head to kiss Zach, to comfort him or shut him up, he wasn’t sure, but when he met Zach’s eyes he saw tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Zach, don’t, please,” he said, “I love you, I love you,” and then he was crying too and Zach slammed into him, hard and rough so he could pretend the sound he made was a moan and not a sob.

Chris felt Zach’s face against his shoulder, damp and stubbly, and knew that he was close. He was pumping hard into Chris, pleasure shot through with pain, and Chris grabbed at his cock through his shorts, squeezed himself once and came, hard and unexpected, his body jerking with the force of his orgasm. Zach gasped as Chris contracted around him, bit a muffled “fuck” into his t-shirt as he came, pulsing hotly into Chris’s ass, thrusting into the sudden slickness until he couldn’t take it anymore. Chris pulled away, rolling onto his back to catch his breath and rub his aching knees, but Zach didn’t follow him, just knelt and pulled his shorts up over his sensitive dick and rubbed a hand over his face, avoiding Chris’s eyes.

Their legs shook as they made their way slowly down the metal staircase, picking up their empty bottles at the bottom. They were quiet on the walk home, their hands hanging at their sides, and the foot of space between them felt like a mile.

**

Chris came awake in the darkness. In the strip of moonlight that shone through the window, he could see Zach, sitting up on the futon, his arms wrapped around his knees. Chris sat up, reached out to run a hand over his back. They sat like that, silent, for a few minutes until Zach spoke.

“What we did today was really stupid,” he said, his voice scratchy and worn.

Chris scooted forward to sit next to him, his palm still rubbing circles into Zach’s back. “I know,” he whispered. He pressed forehead to Zach’s temple, let his lips brush the stubble of Zach’s cheek. “I’m stupid for you, Zach. I can’t help it.”

He felt Zach start to smile, felt his cheeks clench as he stopped and frowned instead. He shook his head, his cheek brushing against Chris’s nose. “I’m sorry about…about what I said.”

Chris closed his eyes, whispered so softly that even Zach wasn’t sure he heard it, “Say it again.”

Zach swallowed. “No,” he said back, and it wasn’t a whisper.

“Why not? Why won’t you tell me not to go? Tell me to stay here for you.”

Zach pulled away and stood up, running a hand through his hair. “That’s exactly why I won’t ask that of you, Chris. Because it would be _for me_ and I don’t want that on me. I don’t want to think I’m holding you back, and I sure as hell don’t want you to wake up bitter six months from now and say ‘I could have done something if I hadn’t stayed here for you’.”

“I would never say that.”

“You don’t know that!” Zach burst. “You don’t know that,” he repeated, quietly. “Berkeley is a great opportunity-“

“God, fuck, stop fucking saying that, opportunity, I fucking hate that word.” Chris scowled at looked at the ground, and he didn’t care if he sounded like a petulant brat.

Zach knelt in front of him, touched his cheek so that Chris would look at him. “Look at me, Chris. You finally made a decision about your future, and now you need to follow through.”

Chris strained to avoid his eyes. “I didn’t…”

“What do you mean?”

Chris looked at him with fire in his eyes. “I mean, I didn’t even _make_ a fucking decision, Zach. I just, I…”

“What?”

“I just couldn’t think of anything else, okay, and my parents…”

“That’s what this is?” Zach asked, and he sounded angry now. “This is you _not_ making a decision, is that it? You let your parents decide for you and now you’re asking _me_ to decide for you, Jesus Christ, Chris!”

Chris ran a hand over his face. “I don’t know…”

“You don’t know, you don’t know, why is that all you ever say anymore? You weren’t like this when I met you, I swear to god! You know what, you don’t want to make a decision, fine, I’ll make one for you. Don’t go.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Fuck it, Chris, don’t go. Stay here in Philly. Stay for me.”

It was exactly what he’d asked for, right there in front of him, and his stomach twisted with fear for what it would mean if he reached out and took it. He could look Zach in the eye right now and promise to stay. But he couldn’t look Zach in the eye.

“FUCK!” Chris stood, running his hands through his hair. “Fuck, fuck this! Why the fuck couldn’t this be easy?

“See? I fucking knew it. I knew asking you wouldn’t be enough. You care too much about your parents’ opinion, Chris, and about this made up path that you’re supposed to take. It’s bullshit.”

“I’m sorry…”

“Chris. Go home.” Zach crossed his arms, looked at Chris from across the room. “Go. Think about it, away from me. Think about what you really want.”

Chris bit his lip. “I thought you were coming to graduation…”

Zach shook his head. “I’m not really sure that’s a good idea anymore,” he said, and Chris pictured Zach meeting his parents and yeah, maybe Zach was right, maybe it was best that they kept this, this thing, 4609 and all that it embodied, separate from family and future and decisions. Maybe that’s what he should do, maybe he should just leave it right now, leave this place, this perfect place and this perfect man – leave them in his past and move on.

Maybe he’d just made a decision.

“Zach, if I leave right now…I don’t know if I’ll be able to come back.” His voice shook.

“Go.”

“This isn’t how I wanted it to end, Zach.”

“Yeah, well. I didn’t want it to end at all.”

***

Zach was sprawled across his futon with an arm around Noah when he heard a pounding on the door.

“Quinto! We’re coming in there.”

“Go away,” Zach said, tired.

Summer pushed open the door and walked in, followed by Harvest. They flopped down to sit beside Zach. Summer looked at him, biting her lip.

“So what happened?”

Zach squinted at her. “What the fuck do you think happened? Chris is going to Berkeley, that’s it.”

“Fuck him.”

Zach patted Harvest on the knee. “Thanks, Harvest. That’s very helpful and considerate.”

“No, I’m serious. He’s just like every other Penn douchebag. All he cares about is making money and doing whatever his lawyer daddy wants him to do.” Zach raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t been aware that Harvest harbored such a depth of passion regarding his relationship.

“His dad’s not a lawyer. And I don’t think you get a Masters in English to make money, Harvest.”

“Whatever.”

Zach rubbed both hands over his face. “I know where he’s coming from, you know? He’s lived his whole life with these expectations and…god, I just should have known. I should have seen it coming, and I shouldn’t have let myself get so…” he gestured at the air, “you know. Happy.”

Summer shook her head. “That’s bullshit, Quinto. He didn’t go out with you because of his parents’ expectations. And you made him happy, too. He loves you, Zach.”

Zach looked at her in disbelief. “Wow, Summer, thanks, that’s even _more_ helpful! Let’s talk about how much my _ex_ -boyfriend loves me right after he rips my fucking heart out of my chest.”

“Zach, I’m trying to help. I really don’t think it has to end this way.”

“Yeah. It does. It’s not like I’m going to fucking serenade him outside his window to try to win him back.”

The corner of Summer’s mouth quirked up.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just, seems like you might have already considered that option.”

Zach gave her the finger and dropped his head into his arms. “Thanks guys, for…whatever this was. But there’s nothing I can do. It’s over, and if that’s what Chris wants, I’m supposed to just, like, fucking love him enough to let him go, and-“ his voice cracked, and he broke down into sobs, his shoulders shaking. He squeezed his eyes shut, but the tears made their way out nonetheless.

Summer rubbed his back and kissed him on the temple.

“God,” Zach said, his voice breaking, “it just fucking hurts so much.” He choked on another sob and wiped his nose ineffectually against his sleeve and let the tears fall.

Summer wrapped her arms around him. “I’m sorry, Zach. If you want to talk…or get shitfaced, or whatever…just let me know, okay?”

Zach nodded, his face still pressed into his arms.

“And if you want to vandalize his apartment, you let Harvest know, okay?”

Zach laughed and shook his head as Summer gave him one last squeeze and stood to go. Harvest settled for giving him an awkward pat on the shoulder and saying, “Fuck him.”

They closed the door softly as they left. Zach lifted the edge of his t-shirt to wipe his cheeks, and he felt a wet nose pressing against his ear. He lay back down on the futon and pulled Noah in close for a hug.

***

Chris faked his way through the week with a smile on his face and an ache in his gut. He let his parents take him out to expensive restaurants and let them sit in his room as he packed up his apartment. He crossed the stage and shook the President’s hand and tried not to crush his diploma in his fists. He got drunk with Karl and Zoe and hugged them and cried, and they all acted like it was because he was going to miss them.

He stopped by 4609 one day when he knew Zach would be working at the co-op. He used his key to get in the locked door, hoping desperately that meant that he wouldn’t run into anyone else. Upstairs, he resisted the urge to flop down on the futon, to steal Zach’s blue-striped hoodie, to leave some grand romantic gesture – he resisted everything but a brief scratch of Noah’s ears as he collected his books from the floor. When he stood to leave his hand slipped to his pocket and he pulled out his key, clutched it in his hand for a long moment before he tossed it onto the futon and turned to leave.

He walked down the stairs and almost dropped the box of books when he saw Harvest waiting for him at the bottom.

“Jesus, Harvest, you scared me.”

“What are you doing?”

“Just picking up some stuff. I have to return these books to the library or they’ll rescind my diploma.”

“I’m talking about Zach. What the fuck are you doing, Chris?”

“Look, Harvest, just stay out of this, okay? I made my decision and Zach made his. And the last thing I need is another fucking guilt trip. It is what it is.”

Harvest sneered. “What does that even mean, Chris? That’s just something you say when you’re too lazy to do something about _it_. God, you just have no fucking idea, and you never have, that’s your problem.”

“Harvest-“

“No, you know what, fuck you, Chris. Take your defeatist bullshit and get the fuck out.”

Chris’s mouth had dropped open a little bit. He never would have guessed that Harvest’s words could hurt him more than Zach’s but there it was, a stab in his gut sharper than any he’d felt so far.

He pushed past Harvest and out the door.

Halfway back to campus, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He checked the screen – an unknown number, 215 area code. A spark of hope made his heart beat faster, and he wondered if maybe he shouldn’t have left his key after all…

***

Chris slowed as he approached 4609, his resolve fading fast. He came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs when he noticed Summer leaning on the railing, smoking a cigarette and watching him.

“Hey. Uh. Am I still welcome here?” Chris asked hesitantly.

Summer blew out a stream of smoke and shrugged. “Might want to stay away from Harvest.”

Chris nodded. “How’s Zach?”

“Pretty fucked up. Painting like crazy. Lots of black. You have any idea how wrapped up in you he is, Chris? I mean, any idea at all?”

Chris felt his chest tighten. “Yeah. Yeah, I have an idea.”

Summer stubbed out her cigarette and motioned for him to come up. Tigerlily seemed to be between songs, so they made their way inside. The living room was packed with people, sitting on a motley collection of chairs and milk crates or standing against the wall. Chris spotted Zach sitting near the front, sprawled in a comfy gray chair. The guitar started up again, so Chris snuck up the side wall, around the chair, and slipped quietly onto Zach’s lap. Zach stiffened, but didn’t take his eyes off Lily as Chris wiggled into a comfortable position on his lap. Chris exhaled in relief as he felt Zach’s arms creep around his waist, tugging him close, and he rested his head on Zach’s shoulder. They sat quietly, watching Lily’s fingers fly across the strings and letting the sound of her beautiful voice wash over them. When the song ended, Zach let go of Chris to clap loudly and Chris sat up a little, as Lily announced that she’d be taking a short break. Finally, Zach gave Chris his full attention, looking at him with uncertainty in his eyes and gnawing on his lip.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Chris said quietly, leaning forward to kiss Zach softly on the lips. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a business card, which he slipped into Zach’s hand. Zach turned it over and read it: Maureen Daly, Director of Marketing, Philadelphia Mural Arts Project.

“What’s this?”

“That’s the business card of the woman who hired me today, to be the new Marketing Writer for the Philadelphia Mural Arts Project.”

Zach’s head shot up to meet Chris’s twinkling eyes. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“Are you serious?”

Chris leaned forward and brushed his lips against Zach’s cheek. “So serious,” he whispered.

“But Chris what about…what about Berkeley? What about grad school?”

Chris shrugged. “Fuck it. After last weekend, I realized – fuck, Z, I mean, why should I pursue some arbitrary goal, when what I really want to do with my life right now is to be here with you. I figured out a way to make it work. I made a decision.”

Zach pulled him down to catch his lips, kissing away the tremor that he could hear in Chris’s voice. When he pulled away to catch his breath, Chris rubbed his nose against Zach’s cheek and told him. “I went home that night and sent out thirty resumes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Zach asked softly.

“I figured I should wait to find out if anyone would even hire an English major with no professional experience whatsoever. Although, I think I would have been willing to bag groceries at Whole Foods if it meant I could stay in Philly with you.”

“Jesus,” Zach groaned, laughing. “What have we done to you?”

“I’m having a great time playing for you guys,” Lily said as she picked up her guitar to begin a second set. “But if you want to see a real performance, maybe we should bring these two up here,” she said, gesturing to the chair where Chris was still straddling Zach. “Because this is just adorable.”

Chris and Zach blushed, and Cho shouted “Woohoo!” from the back.

“We’ve seen that performance far too many times,” deadpanned Harvest, and everybody laughed.

Lily started to play, and Chris wiggled around until he could lean back against Zach’s chest. “This okay?” Chris whispered. “You want me to move?”

Chris felt Zach slip something into his pocket and glanced down to see the glint of a silver key. He kissed Chris below his ear and said, “I want you to stay.”

  



	6. Epilogue

  
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Chris locked his bike to the bike rack and squinted into the early evening light until he spotted Zach's familiar form on the other side of Franklin Square. He jogged toward him, watched his face light up as he spotted Chris, and let himself sag happily into Zach's embrace.

"Hey, hottie," Zach said, kissing him on the cheek. "How was your day?"

"It was okay," Chris said, trying and failing to contain his excitement.

"What, what? Tell me, come on, what are you so happy about?"

Chris beamed, clutched Zach by his shoulders. "How do you feel about the intersection of 12th and Lehigh?"

Zach thought about it and frowned. "I feel terrible about it. North Philly, right? Isn't that, like, a really shitty neighborhood?"

"Uh huh, well, that may be true, but there's an elementary school there with a big ugly wall just waiting to be beautified - say, you don't happen to know any artists who might _fucking flip their shit_ at the chance to work with that kind of canvas, do you?

"Shut up." Zach's jaw dropped a little.

Chris grinned. "I talked to the mural coordinator today. I _may_ have suggested a certain local artist who would love the opportunity to 'light up young faces and old places'."

"Are you quoting marketing materials to me?"

"I made that one up. You like it?"

"Chris, don't fuck with me, are you serious?"

"Nothing's set in stone yet, but yeah. They are looking for an artist and I did give them your name. They asked if you'd like to come into the office next week to talk about your vision and some place-based design concepts and - yeah, you know, I kinda lost them after that, but I know you should do it. You'll do it, right?"

"Fuck yeah, I will. Oh my god, Chris, that is amazing," Zach said, wrapping his arms around Chris's waist and attempting unsuccessfully to spin him through the air.

"Better work on those arm muscles, Quinto. You're gonna be working with bigger brushes soon," Chris said, laughing.

"Whatever. You're heavy."

"Sorry, but someone keeps feeding me delicious pasta on a nightly basis."

"We need it to keep our stamina up!"

"Everything comes back to sex with you, doesn't it? Speaking of which, I'm starving." He grabbed Zach by the hand and dragged him across the square to the burger stand. They sat on a picnic bench as Chris ate.

"Give me a bite," Zach said, nudging his shoulder.

"Hell no," Chris said through a mouthful of burger.

"Come on," Zach whined. "It smells good."

"No." Chris wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I don’t want to be a bad influence on you. And I _don’t_ want to deal with the consequences.”

Zach rolled his eyes and took a sip of Chris’s milkshake instead. He played with the straw for a few seconds. “Summer’s moving out,” he said, finally.

Chris looked at him in surprise. “Really? Damn. Where’s she going? To live in a giant redwood or something?”

“Close,” Zach said, laughing. “You know that show, _Whale Wars_?”

Chris’s mouth dropped open. “You’re shitting me.”

Zach shook his head. “Nope.”

“So should we start collecting her bail money now?”

“I know, right?” Zach laughed.

Chris noticed his expression turning serious. “What?”

“So, I was thinking, since Lily and Cho have moved in….and since Cho is now an actual contributing member of society, we were thinking…instead of getting another roommate, maybe you and I could move into the front room. I could keep the third floor as my studio. And maybe we could even get-“

“No…” Chris said, a smile starting on his face as he realized what was coming.

“Yeah. A real bed.”

Chris threw his arms around Zach and faked a sniffle. “Zach. You’re all grown up.”

Zach smiled and shook him off. “Shut it, you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, asshole. Now come on. All these adult decisions are making my head spin, and I need to seriously kick your ass in mini-golf.”

“Wanna make it interesting?” Chris asked, standing up from the bench.

Zach shook his head as Chris took his hand. “You’re getting sexual favors either way.”

Chris grinned. “Then I will totally let you win.”

  


  
**THE END**   
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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to everyone for reading. Most of the places mentioned in this fic are real. Fuego is a real place with a fake name where I spent many drunken Thursday nights when I was 24 and 25 (and yes, Citywide Specials are real too…unfortunately, they’re not actually city-wide). There are lots of localisms and references throughout the story, so let me know if there's anything that makes you go "huh?!" :-) And if you ever visit Philly, let me know, and I'll take you on the grand tour (Chris and Zach not included).


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